Get Physical
by TwilightCakes
Summary: Peeta has hit rock bottom, but makes the most important choice of all - to change his life. He falls hard for the beautiful girl assigned help him, but he's been burned too many times to expect her to notice him that way. That path to change is a slow, difficult journey. He quickly learns that he must first love himself before he can ever expect her to.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back! *waves***

 **I hopped on Tumblr last night and happened to see that I was nominated for a few Everlark Smut Awards and I about dropped over I was so happy! Thank you to the person/peeps who even THOUGHT of me - I am honored! I do love my smut writin'.**

 **I've had this fic in a folder on my desktop for almost a year and a half, slowly chugging away on it here and there but that nomination seriously made my day. So, I dragged my ass to the computer and decided to post a few chapters to see what you all think. It's a bit different than anything I've tried to far, but fingers crossed you all enjoy it.**

 ** _(and yes, there will be smut, it's still me...come on now, you know I can't write no 'G' rated fic ; ) hah!)_**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1 – A Girl like Her**

He couldn't understand how a single person could be so utterly beautiful it could make his heart hurt.

His hands stilled in the lukewarm bread dough he was kneading as he watched her walk past the glass windows that lined the front of his family's bakery. Her blonde hair blew lightly in the wind as she paused at the door and swung it open with a carefree pull.

 _Yes_ , he thought with glee. Time seemed to slow down as she floated gracefully up to the counter and flashed a dazzling smile. Her lips shone with a fresh coat of shimmery pink lip gloss and her loose, golden curls seemed to frame her angelic face in a way that made his heart pound. Her aqua colored eyes squinted when she smiled, making her entire face seem to glow happily.

He gulped silently and tried to keep his cool.

"It always smells so amazing in here!" she trilled happily, giving him another grin.

He smiled back. "Thanks. We uh….bake a lot."

She smiled back, her dazzling expression making his heart beat so loud it started to resound in his ears. _Shit,_ he thought, _that sounded like a whole other level of stupid._

"In a bakery? Hmmm," she teased playfully, flipping her blonde hair behind her shoulder. She offered him a playful wink to go along with her smile and he thought he might keel over. She was just so utterly gorgeous it _hurt_.

 _Say something, say something, SAY SOMETHING!_ his mind screamed at him. Mouth suddenly dry, he fought to find the words.

"It's Glimmer, right? I'm Peeta."

"That's right, you remembered my name!" she trilled, placing a perfectly manicured hand over her heart. "So cute."

"Um….can I get you something?" he finally managed to stammer.

"Oh, you know you can," she said, leaning onto the counter. Her infectious laugher rang out in the quiet bakery, the sound making Peeta smile bigger.

"Uh…well, u-uh….You name it."

 _I think I'd get you anything you wanted._

"What's the best thing you have? I'm in the mood for something different today."

Peeta nervously bit his lip. "Oh, ah….I think the Danishes. Or maybe the doughnuts. Or the Croissants. I mean… _I_ think so at least."

He barely noticed as her eyes raked up and down his frame once, her lip twitching slightly as she fought back a smile.

He heard his father snort behind him – Peeta had forgotten there was a witness to his shameless flirting. He cleared his throat and wiped some of the flour off his apron. Glimmer was a regular at his family's bakery. He surmised she lived nearby, for she almost always stopped by on weekends for a doughnut or a bagel to go with her Chai Tea Latte. The grand entrance, hair flipping, warm smiles and flirty winks were consistently a part of her routine. She never did it with either of his brothers – granted, they both wore their wedding rings on full display, but still.

She always seemed to flirt with _him._

"Those little fruit tarts you make are always amazing," she sighed. "Maybe one of those?"

He stuttered. "Oh, I….I didn't have any made up today. Um-"

She clicked her tongue and gave him a helpless look. "Oh, I had so hoped you would have…."

She gave him an expectant look that he didn't quite understand. Suddenly, an idea dawned on him.

"I erm…I could make some up. Do you uh…maybe want your usual latte while you wait? Skim milk, right? It'll just take a second," he stammered nervously.

Her show-stopping grin returned. She looked like an angel. "You're the _best_."

He let out a little cross between a squeak and a laugh and bobbed his head a little too quickly. "Sure! Sure, not a problem. I uh…I'll bring that out to you."

She winked again and winkled her nose in an adorable way before prancing off to a table in front of the windows. Peeta sighed as he watched her tuck her blonde curls behind her ear and whip out her iPad. He'd had his eye on Glimmer for almost six months now. She was everything he wanted; beautiful, sweet, and an infectious laugh. While he knew his father's croissants and his pastries and lattes were wonderful, they couldn't be so wonderful that she would come in nearly every weekend just for them, right? He had himself convinced that she had an ulterior motive involved, and he secretly hoped it was him.

He hurried back to the kitchen, ignoring his mother's irritated stare and his father's raised eyebrows.

"Did you make any of those mini fruit tarts yet today?" he asked hurriedly, flipping the door to the fridge open. He pulled out the fresh batch of whipped cream and looked at his father expectantly. "Did you?" He grinned.

His dad laughed, shaking his head. "Is that what Miss Long Legs wants today? No, I didn't make any," he replied with another chuckle. "You gonna moon over her all day or ask her out?"

"Dad…"

His mother gave a dissatisfied grunt from behind him, making a show of yanking the cellar door open and stomping down the steps. His father's eyes followed her before he shook it off.

"What? You act like a giddy little teenager whenever she comes in. Might be time to see if she's game for a Mellark man," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Right," Peeta snorted. "I could get a girl like that? Seriously? Come on, pop."

"What? Your mother looked like that once and got her, s'all I'm sayin'."

Peeta shot his father a withering skeptical look.

"Well…she wasn't as uh…tall. Fit. She had blonde hair. She was…oh…Shut up, quit looking at me like that. She was a catch in her day, still is. But no, I didn't make up any of those fruit tarts yet today. Didn't plan on it. My point is, go out there and offer to make it up to her by taking her out for dinner."

Peeta heaved a sigh and toyed with the frayed end of his white apron. "Seriously? None?" he hated to disappoint her. What if she didn't come back? He glanced around the aging bakery, wiping his hands nervously on his apron.

"Peeta…"

"But you didn't make any of them, right? You're not just toying with me?"

"No, son, I didn't. It's too early in the springtime to make fruit tarts every day, Peeta. Those are a summer treat."

Peeta cursed under his breath and made his way to the front of the store. Glimmer stood at the center of the counter, tapping her high heeled foot impatiently. How she managed to eat something from the bakery as often as she did and still managed to look like a runway model, Peeta wasn't sure. He began making her normal latte, his fingers fumbling clumsily to get the lid on just right.

"So uh…we don't have any today, turns out," he stammered, hurrying to slide on the cup sleeve. "But maybe if you come back later…?"

She tossed her hair and wrinkled her small nose. "Nah, its fine. I was just _super_ hoping for one today. It's a shame you didn't make any…"

He shrugged slowly, not sure what she wanted him to do. "I'm…sorry. It's usually a summertime thing when we have those, and it's still….pretty early yet. But we should have them in a few weeks," he added hopefully.

Glimmer wrinkled her nose, heaving a disappointed sigh. _God, even slightly pissy she looked beautiful_ he thought.

"Its fine I guess. Bummer. Well…."

"I can get you something else," he insisted. He gulped in nervousness, watching her eyes scan over him. There was a small flicker of hope that maybe she liked what she saw when she looked at him. It was small, but it was there. He wiped his shaky, slightly sweaty palms on his pants and cleared his throat. "Maybe I can make it up to you. With dinner."

She cocked her head to the side and gave him an inquisitive look. "Your bakery makes dinner?"

"Uh, no," he laughed nervously, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean…I could take you out. To dinner. Maybe tomorrow? F-Friday?"

Her eyes lit up with realization before showing a flash of horror that she quickly recovered from. He felt his stomach drop.

"Like a date? With you?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered. He swallowed again and chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, if you want. I mean, my treat, I would love to take you out. Dinner a-and…maybe a movie?"

Glimmer let out a weird, half laugh half groan as she bit her lip. "Peter, that's so….nice."

He tried not to wince. "It's…its Peeta, actually."

"Right," she sighed, wrinkling her nose again. "Listen, this is going to sound kinda…bad, but…you're not really my type."

His heart sank. "You have to have a type to just…take you out to dinner?"

She nodded. "I mean, you're super nice and I love your pastries, but I don't go out with guys like you. I mean, the last guy I dated was _almost_ a pro-football player. He had a motorcycle and he had his picture taken with it…shirtless," she sighed, her eyes meeting his. "He sent it to a few modeling agencies and they might put it in a magazine. I mean, a real _magazine_ ," she insisted. She did a quick once-over scan of his body and heaved a little sigh.

"He sounds….great," Peeta forced out. The word sounded disgusting and flat and he could barely get it out.

 _Douchebag,_ he secretly thought. "So your type of guy owns like…motorcycles and plays sports?"

Glimmer tossed her hair and gave him a look full of pity. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm just…not attracted to you. I guess I just don't want to date someone…. your size."

The air felt like it had gotten sucked out of the room. Peeta's face immediately got hot and his palms began to sweat as her words hung in the air.

 _Your size._

"My size," he muttered, his face growing even hotter. "So a fat guy, right? You wouldn't ever date a fat guy? Not even once, to give him a chance?"

She was quiet for a few moments, her flawless face sad. Her voice was gentle, but never before had words sliced through his heart so hurtfully. "No. I'm sorry. I don't go out with fat guys."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 **Disclaimer:**

 **The idea for this story came to me as I was working out one day and reading a lot about health and fitness. Those two words mean different things to different people, simply put. I am by no means any sort of expert on health, personal fitness, or weight loss – all three of which will be talked about as they relate to this fiction. Please do not mistake that I am writing about them for the sake of the story as I document Peeta's fictional journey into physical fitness and NOT as a personal recommendation or even as a halfway professional of any sort. THIS IS JUST FICTION.**

 **That said, I think 'fat' is a bit of a dirty word in our society today and I am using it as a derogatory term used by fictional characters. I will not ever disclose how much Peeta weighs at his heaviest because I truly feel that the number on the scale is irrelevant to the plot. He is however large you imagine him – whatever number you picture for him is the number he is. I am writing this for fiction and not for a reference for anyone out there to feel badly about themselves for weighing more or less than a number. This story is about focusing on what is on the inside while documenting a fictional character's journey to a healthier lifestyle.**

 **I hope I haven't offended anyone who is or isn't working on their own fitness journey. This is just a story and I am NOT a trainer in real life, so...take none of it seriously.**

 **If you guys like it, I'll keep going! : )**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Fat is a Big Word**

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"Well it serves him _right._ What the hell was the thinking?"

"The boy gave it a shot, Helen. Give him a break. He's just a young man taking chances. Nothing wrong with that."

"If this girl is anything like you're describing to me, then he should have known better."

"Helen…"

"Don't _'Helen'_ me. I'm not wrong. Peeta should have known better than to set his sights so high."

Peeta winced as he listened to his parents in their kitchen. The swinging door separating the kitchen from the dining room did little to muffle the noise as his mother put the finishing touches on the Sunday dinner. He shouldn't have come. That was all there was to it. His mother was a master of getting information out of everyone and he should have known his father would cave and tell her about Peeta's humiliating afternoon. Why did he even bother to come to Sunday dinner knowing he'd have to be harassed about the Glimmer situation? He just wanted to die of embarrassment and shame and that was all there was to it. Why did everything have to be so humiliating?

He glanced down miserably at his protruding stomach and thick thighs. "That's why," he muttered to himself, giving the flab a poke. His stomach gurgled in response.

The smell of food – and not just any food, his mother's special cooking – wafted from the small kitchen in his former home.

In his mother's kitchen, calories didn't count. The nutrition label was something the stores 'just had to put on there to satisfy the silly health nuts'. The idea of too much salt was laughable. That was just her way of thinking and thus, her cooking was heavenly as much as he hated to admit it. He'd grown up with his mother's talents in the kitchen and it didn't feel right to go more than a few days without a home-cooked meal. Not that he didn't do any cooking on his own – he did. Having a third generation baker for a father and a mother with an obsession with butter that would put Paula Deen to shame hadn't given him much of a chance in life.

He'd always been fat.

It just sucked to have someone point it out.

Well, fat was a strong word. For three tiny letters, the word 'fat' carried a lot of meaning with it. He hadn't always been labeled 'fat'.

When he was born, he'd been labeled 'healthy' and a 'jolly-looking' baby.

When he was a toddler, he'd just been 'pudgy' and 'cubby cheeked'.

When he'd started school, he was the round faced little boy who always had cookies in his lunchbox and a smile on face.

When he was in junior high, he'd been 'big boned' but strong – he could throw his weight around and use his strength from hauling bags of flour in the bakery on the weekends and after school to succeed in wrestling and football. All that running had sucked, but he'd always been strong and enjoyed lifting weights. He'd been strong enough and could hold his own in sports, but he'd never thought twice about keeping up with them after he'd finished school.

Then in college he'd discovered beer. And late night pizza. And then more beer the next day to cure his hangovers and pizza leftover from the night before to top that all off.

After college, he'd joined the family business and become a full time baker and store manager. The hours were long and he rarely got much time off, so he ended up grabbing food whenever he could from the bakery or the Italian place just around the corner. Or it was Sunday dinner with his family or leftovers his mother left in his fridge. There was no more running for sports, nor was there an excuse to keep working out. He was still strong but the muscle was covered with a few layers of well….fat.

Peeta lowered his head and sighed. This officially sucked. He'd always been larger – his entire family was what someone would label 'stocky' or 'big boned'.

Or fat.

He wasn't as big as his brothers, that was for sure. Why that gave him some pitiful consolation he wasn't sure. Even with his height, his brother Bran was easily seventy pounds bigger than he was. His other brother, Rye came in a close second weight wise, but Peeta was willing to be he'd let himself get within ten pounds or so of him. In his family rounded stomachs, thick middles, and chubby cheeks were the norm. He didn't have to get on a scale to know he'd let himself get to the biggest he'd ever been. He wasn't innocent – he wasn't shy about sampling his baking to know that it was up to par. A slice of pie here, an extra helping of homemade whip cream there, added on top of the foot long lunch sandwiches and decadent Sunday dinners at his mother and father's house….it wasn't hard to tell why he'd gotten to the point where he was. And that was just when he wasn't at home. His own house was a bachelor's haven when it came to food – his fridge was stocked with beer, every kind of sauce or condiment known to man, leftover takeout, and a freezer full of more processed food he could ever eat.

Peeta knew why he was fat. But when it came down to it, what else did he have? Today was the perfect example. He didn't have a family yet, nor did he have a really nice house. He wasn't married or even dating anyone, and he was looking at life as a baker with his mother hanging over his shoulder.

Food seemed like a bit of a pacifying escape.

His brother, Rye, gave him a look of pity across the table. He too was single and was pushing thirty. "You really did it?"

Before Peeta could answer, the door swung open as his mother carried a tray of her famous lasagna in and dropped it unceremoniously in the center of the table. Peeta chewed his lip and glanced at his father who had followed her in. He carried the look of a man who had gotten the brunt of one too many marital lectures in his day along with the bacon covered green beans and a pair of zebra print pot holders. He shifted from foot to foot as his mother continued her tirade.

Only now it wasn't in the privacy of the kitchen. _Oh joy_ , Peeta thought.

"You really thought miss long legs was gonna go out with you? Good thing I wasn't there, Peeta. I would have knocked some sense into you instead of egging you on like I'm sure this one did," she sighed, gesturing to his father. His dad shot him an apologetic look over her shoulder.

"You had to bring it up," Peeta grumbled to his father. "As if it wasn't humiliating enough that I asked her out and she shot me down."

"Why would you even try? Girls like that don't go out with guys like you, everyone knows that. Now that I think of it, I've seen her come into the bakery and I know exactly who you're talking about. Nice try, Peeta."

Peeta rarely got upset over anything –he was more of a go with the flow type of guy, but honestly? He'd just had his heart crushed. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to re-hash everything from what was quickly becoming the most humiliating day of his life.

"I just don't know why you put yourself through this, Peeta. You need to meet a nice, regular girl like Bran did and just get married. Stop chasing after the unattainable and settle for what you can get."

Peeta's temper flared. "Mom, I really don't think that's a kind thing to say about Delly. She's kind and sweet and beautiful and we're lucky to have her in the family. Bran got lucky when he met her in college and I don't appreciate you referring to her like a piece of chattel we happened to inherit. I'm sure he wouldn't either."

His mother paused, hands on her hips as she rolled her eyes. "Oh would you stop being such a little drama queen? I'm only trying to make a point."

"Yeah, well…get on it."

"Peeta! I only meant that you should set realistic goals for yourself. Delly isn't a model, nor is she a size two, but she looks right with Bran. I've seen that Glitter or Glimmer or whatever her name is and although she would pretty this family up, I highly doubt she'd been seen with you."

Ouch.

"Look, we were talking and getting along and I just wanted to-"

She cut him off. "-to what? See if you could humiliate yourself? That girl could be a model. What made you think she'd say yes to you?"

His father set the platter of beans down on the table and sighed. "Helen, the girl comes by and flirts shamelessly at least once a week. Clearly the boy was led on. Now can we just eat and drop it? Bran and Delly will be here any minute."

They finished getting ready for Sunday dinner in an awkward silence – Rye and his father giving him sympathetic looks while his mother seemed to sigh _louder_ each time she came from the kitchen to plop another platter of food on the table. He just couldn't win.

* * *

Peeta moped his way through dinner, ignoring the sympathetic looks from everyone but his mother. She's somehow segued the dinner conversation to re-hash his afternoon humiliation for Bran and Delly while ignoring his desperately pleading looks for her to shut up. She had spoken the harsh truth and wasn't the truth always the most difficult to hear? Still though, he didn't want to deal with it. Skipping after dinner beers with his brothers and dad in the garage, he opted to head home early to have some peace and quiet. He didn't work on Mondays, so figured he'd wallow and mope in the privacy of his own home.

Like a bad habit, he went straight for the kitchen. _Why did he always end up there? Oh, the leftovers._ Opening his fridge, he tossed the leftovers his mother had sent home with him in and slammed it shut.

He paused.

Opening it a second time, he peered inside.

Leftover pie. Cold pizza. A carton of sugary soda. A leftover burger from lunch the day before. He'd stuffed himself with an appetizer of nachos and all of the French fries that came with the burger before eating over half of it.

He glanced down at his stomach. Pinching his side, he winced as he had to grab at least a hearty handful of flubber before reaching the muscle of his stomach. It was there, it was just…hard to find. Heaving a sigh, he walked to his bedroom and peeled off his jeans and flour-ridden t-shirt. He grimaced at himself in the mirror. He wasn't ugly, but he definitely wasn't…attractive. Perhaps it had been a good thing Glimmer had shot him down. What if he'd gotten the date, and a second, and then a third? Would he have invited her back to his house after the third or fourth date? Would he have taken off his clothes and pulled her into his bed?

Maybe it was a good thing she'd turned him down. At twenty seven, he was hardly a catch physically, but there was also another factor that had been holding him back: his experience. Or, lack of experience. He tried to imagine bringing Glimmer back to his house after a date. He pictured her pulling her top off, stepping out of her jeans, and looking at him to do the same.

Then he pictured himself almost dying of humiliation as she watched him struggle out of his jeans and peel off his shirt. What would she say when she saw his stomach? Or his back? He wasn't particularly a fan of either of those body parts.

No, that wouldn't do.

Moving to his dresser, he stripped out of his dirty work clothes and tossed them into the hamper. His house needed cleaning. There were dirty clothes and piles of clean laundry he hadn't gotten around to folding or hanging. Dust covered the surfaces and everything needed to be tidied and vacuumed. No, he certainly wouldn't bring a girl like Glimmer there.

Ambling back to the fridge, he snagged the leftover pie out of the box and dumped it on a plate, followed by a large dollop of homemade whipped cream. It wasn't even the light, fluffy stuff you bought in the store – no, this was made with tons of confectioners' sugar and real whipping cream. A real baker's masterpiece if he did say so himself. It didn't matter – he barely tasted it as he shoveled it into his mouth. He sat on his couch and ate the large chunk (it wasn't even small enough to be called a slice, he realized) of pie until he felt sick. He didn't even really feel like he was hungry – the sweetness settled on top of the dinner he'd just eaten at his mother's house and sat there like lead in his stomach.

Pushing the plate to the side, he looked down at his stomach in disgust. Glimmer didn't like him, his mother called him fat, and he didn't even like himself. He didn't like his _life._

If this was rock bottom, well…it sucked.

 _I don't want to feel this way anymore._

It was time for a change.

He was suddenly struck with a terrifying thought: he'd realized he didn't want to live like this anymore, but now how did he fix it?

Everything was hopeless.

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 **Thank you everyone for welcoming this story - your reviews and favorites and follows made my day and inspire me to keep going. I was really nervous to tackle this topic, hence the reason this fic has been sitting on my computer for oh, a year and a half. Please know that every one of you who commented has encouraged me to keep chugging along.**

 **I stand by the disclaimer on the previous chapter - this is purely fictional and absolutely NO advice Peeta is given is from a professional - I'm just a writer, playing pretend for awhile in this world. If you chose to take your own fitness journey, stick with the professionals and your doctor.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: One Cliché After Another**

* * *

Katniss sprayed the disinfectant on the mat in front of her, wincing at the sharp smell of the chemicals. She had no idea what was in the solution she was using, but she did know that it was blue, it was strong, and it smelled _terrible._

Her eyes drifted upwards, catching one of the cheesy phrases that was painted in big, bold letters across that part of the gym: _IT ONLY SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE UNTIL IT'S DONE._

She frowned and had to internally scoff at the stupidity of the quote. Obviously the person who had chosen that little slogan had never tried raising a teenager on their own with a dismal income and no family around to help.

 _You're not here to judge the quotes on the wall. You're here to work,_ she reminded herself sternly. Those were the four words she'd repeated to herself throughout the years of raising her little sister with only the income of one shitty job after another: _You're here to work._

Waitressing at the diner on third shift, making no tips. Temping as a file clerk and getting nothing but papercuts. Working nights picking up trash downtown at the bus stop. Painting curbs for the city in blistering heat. Customer service for a struggling cell phone company. The one thing all of her jobs had it common were that while they sucked, they paid the bills. And she had plenty of those.

She didn't get invested in her work, make friends with her coworkers, or do anything above whatever it took to make it to her next raise. She was there for a paycheck. Nothing else.

Reaching over, she hoisted herself up off the mats and stopped dead in front of the next machine. She didn't even know what the piece of equipment was called. The only thing she knew was that she could clearly make out the imprint of someone's sweaty butt cheek on the seat of the machine. She gagged softly before attacking it with a vengeance with the icky blue spray.

 _These people must really sweat a lot to need stuff this strong,_ she thought with a grimace. It burned the inside of her nose. _Gross._ Across the room, her best friend Gale cleared his throat.

 _Stop scowling,_ he mouthed to her. She took a deep breath (and coughed at the chemicals) and tried to put a pleasant look on her face. Gale had gotten her the job at the large gym where he worked and the least she could do was act like she appreciated it, even if her boss was the most irritating creature to ever grace the planet and every one of her coworkers were infuriatingly peppy. If she wasn't getting paid and getting a chance to do something physical she was certain she would have already quit.

Each morning an annoyingly large group of staffers had to gather in the main lobby, talk about silly goals for the day and clap for stupid accomplishments from the day before. Everything felt stupid and forced. Then they were to each grab a bottle of disinfectant that smelled like it would eat through lead paint and painstakingly wipe down every square inch of the gym.

Every. Square. Inch.

And there were a _lot_ of those at Panem Fitness.

She sighed, trying her best to just be thankful she had a job. And _did she ever_ need one. She'd stormed out of the customer service job after getting sworn at and completely berated by a customer on the other end of the line. The second she'd had the nerve to even _try_ to defend herself from the abuse, she's been called down to her supervisor's office. It felt good to toss her headset at him and tell him to screw himself.

What didn't feel so good was going home and having to tell her little sister she'd quit another job.

She'd never forget the look in Prim's eyes when she muttered, " _At least you didn't get fired again."_

Of course Prim hadn't meant it that way. Her sister was good and sweet and pure and that was the main reason Katniss fought so hard to protect her. Maybe she hadn't made it in the world, but damn it, Prim would.

Heaving a sigh, she leaned against the solid steel frame of one of the machines and slid to the floor with a grunt. Not even eight in the morning and she was sweating from the effort it took to scrub the sweat off the god-blasted machines.

It had been a really sucky, awful year. Well, five years if she was keeping count. It had all started when her father and Gale's had been killed in an accident in the factory where they'd worked together for years. She and Gale had been friends since they were kids, but their fathers dying in the same accident had really made them grow closer. Not close like some people thought – their friends had teased them for years that they were 'meant to be'. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Gale was like an older brother to her and boy did he act like it. Always being protective, criticizing her dates, her car, her general life choices…no thank you. While she didn't want to date him, she'd been more than thankful to have him as a best friend. Both of their families had fallen into poverty after the deaths of their fathers and having a friend that understood what she was going through certainly helped things.

Having Gale as a friend had helped her through some of the darkest times of her life.

Her mother had turned to the bottle after her father died and just when Katniss thought their lives had hit rock bottom, she'd gotten the call. Their mother had driven her car into a telephone pole and died on impact. They'd buried her next to their father before grass had even grown on his grave.

It turned out she didn't even have a clue what rock bottom even looked like until that moment.

It had been one shitty job after another as she was thrown into what life was like as a parent to her younger sister, Prim. Stricken with grief, broke, and scrambling, she'd somehow gotten through the last five years. She's lived paycheck to paycheck and not a cent extra.

That had all changed when Gale called from work. When he'd offered her a job with steady hours and halfway decent pay, she'd taken it after one of the other trainers at Panem Fitness had suddenly quit. She supposed it wasn't too bad – she didn't work any nights, she didn't have to wear ridiculous nylons or her mother's old skirts, and she was at least moving around. She didn't really like working some weekends and having to actually _talk_ to clients, but she wasn't in any position to be picky. At twenty four she knew her resume and her bank account couldn't handle any more gaps. She and Prim were two months behind on their rent of their house they were living in on the same exact day Gale had called her with a job offer. That was two months ago – since then she'd actually gotten them caught up on the bills and had already made at least a quarter of what Prim's school books for the year of nursing school would cost.

She had to keep this job – in the past year _alone_ she'd worked at the cell phone place, the Starbucks, and just a year ago was the city job. None of those had worked out well. The past twelve months were the crème of the crop when it came to her shitty list of past jobs. Sure there were a few douche guys that came into the gym, but she had Gale to fight them off for her if she needed him to. She just _had_ to make this work. She paused her work wiping down a stair machine and thought of Prim. Her little sister was nineteen and starting her second year of college. And unlike Katniss, Prim was determined to actually finish school.

Katniss sighed, tossing her towel over her shoulder and grabbing a fresh one. She sprayed down another machine she still didn't know the name of or much less how to use and tried to focus on her work. She'd dropped out of school after her dad's accident and put her Physical Therapy major on hold. That program required more than just the standard four years of school. What had she been thinking? At this point she'd be lucky to even finish her two year degree. Most of her time and energy went to paying the rent in their small house and making sure Prim got to school on time. She spent her evenings tending to their small garden (Hey, it was basically free food) and doing things like making anatomy flashcards to help Prim study. Her life was far from glamorous.

She had no social life and a job was a job – she felt like every sorry, woe-is-me cliché that ever existed.

 _Speaking of cliché,_ she thought with a grimace. One of her coworkers, Cato, was walking towards her with what looked like purpose in his step. She turned back to her work and prayed to God he wasn't coming over to try to initiate round two of their awkward relationship. _Ulgh,_ she thought – she wouldn't even call it a relationship. She'd been bored when she first started, trapped in a cycle of self-pity and crying about the state of her life. She'd come in to pick up her first paycheck one Friday night after having a round of beers with Gale. Cato had just been ending his shift when he'd asked her out to dinner. Hungry and a little buzzed, she'd been just lonely and at a low enough point in her life she'd said yes.

Big mistake.

He'd been nice enough at first – a mixture of friendly, talkative, and only slightly boring with the sports chatter. Then he'd had a few drinks at the sports bar he'd taken her to and got a little too friendly.

"Is that Katniss Everdeen I see?" he drawled, walking cockily towards her mat she was wiping down. The smell of the cleaning solution was burning her nose and eyes as she debated how to handle this situation. Insult him and hope that he moved on? Or try to gracefully let him down easy?

She winced before looking up. "Hey…Cato. How's it...uh, going?"

"Dope," he answered in all seriousness, nodding to the quiet techno music that was already playing over the speakers. "What you up to later?"

 _Dope?_ She asked herself. _Was that seriously a state of being? Ulgh…._

"Uh…just working. Maybe going out with Gale later," she answered casually, pushing herself to a stand. Cato had inched steadily closer and as she stood she came almost eye to eye with his crotch. Awkward….

After attempting a somewhat sloppy goodnight kiss on their first date, he'd asked her out again. Shamefully, she'd been just low enough in life to say yes. She'd kicked herself as soon as Cato picked her up in his overly shiny car, the engine loud and tires squealing as he'd pulled away from her house. She was bored, she was lonely, and going out with him had been something to do – a decision she almost immediately regretted. Cato only cared about what he wore, how he looked, and oh – how she looked standing next to him. He'd informed her that he didn't normally date shorter girls, but she had 'great ass' so that made it alright. Katniss had rolled her eyes at him right there at the table. Then at dinner she'd nervously tossed back one too many glasses of wine and allowed him to take her back to his apartment. She was about to let herself have some shallow, meaningless sex (hey, it'd been awhile) with him…until the moment came. She called it fate, he'd called it a mixture of too many drinks at dinner and blamed it on the 'supplements' he was taking to help him get ripped, but he'd ultimately been unable to perform. Not that it mattered – she was pretty sure all the steroids he had to be taking to maintain his ripped, muscled physique had something to do with it. Katniss had breathed a sigh of relief before calling herself a cab and heading home. They hadn't worked the same shift recently so their run-ins had been sparse and awkward, to say the least. Cato had caught her in a moment of pity and rock-bottomness that she wasn't proud of and she couldn't help but feel like she'd dodged a bullet of some sort or another. A bullet marked _'Poor choices'_ or _'Pity party'_ , perhaps.

"Yeah he uh…said you guys were good buddies. I kinda hit him up earlier."

She put her hand on her hip and frowned. "Hit him up for what… exactly?"

Cato gave her a smirk. A pretty cocky smirk in fact, for a guy who couldn't even get it up and pretty much only talked about himself on their dates.

"Advice. On how to get you to go out with me again."

"Gale," she muttered darkly, shaking her head. "Son of a bitch."

"What?"

"Uh, nothing, just…you asked him for advice on how to get me to go out with you again? Cato…we kinda…did that and it didn't go so well."

He shrugged, maintaining his casual stance. "I'd had a few too many cocktails that night. Whatever, right? Just think it over, holler at me when you know when you wanna hang next. Later," he mumbled before striding away.

Katniss groaned internally and tossed the rag down onto the mat. "What I ever saw in that…"

She needed to focus and just show up, do her work, and go home. It was stupid to date coworkers and she knew that going into the fling with Cato. However, her loneliness and the fact that her life was completely stalled at the moment had driven her to make a choice she wouldn't normally make in a million years. She just needed to get Prim through nursing school and then get herself back into PT school. Easier said than done. Her eyes flicked up to see the cheesy quote on the wall and it just seemed to mock her now.

 _IT ONLY SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE UNTIL IT'S DONE._

 _Jesus,_ she swore, kneeling to scrub at the mat. _Don't let Cato or the stupid wall ruin your day. Come on, Katniss, you're here to work. You're here to work. You're here….ulgh. You're at work._

Just as she'd refocused and committed herself to having a better attitude, her boss, Seneca Crane, stuck his head out of his office.

"Katniss! Kat, I need to talk to you. Will you come to my office please?"

She rolled her eyes at the floor (ignoring his nickname for her) before looking up in his direction with a fake smile. "Be right there Mr. Crane."

Hoisting herself to a stand, she tossed the rag into the hamper in the hall and tried to not drag her feet as she walked into her boss's office. It was a place she dreaded, and for several reasons. It was a small room with a clear glass window overlooking the main gym, but her boss had it so decorated with tacky pictures of scantily clad women adorned in workout gear and weird poses to show off their muscles. It reeked of sweat and protein powder and cheap Axe body spray.

"Thank you Kat, please…have a seat."

"It's Katniss," she said dryly, plopping down on the chair. "I don't go by 'Kat'."

"Never?" he looked up in surprise.

She shook her head.

"No."

His plastic-looking smile faltered slightly before he corrected it.

"It's such a great nickname though! Really? You never went by Kat?"

Her boss smirked a little as he ran his hand through his freshly washed hair. It looked somehow still wet from his shower but greasy all the same – she wasn't sure she wanted to know how he achieved that look. Sighing, she leaned forward and tried to look like she had the faintest interest in why he'd called her in there that morning. _Maybe if I look like a give a single fuck about what he has to say he'll say it quickly_ , she silently hoped. Mr. Crane took a deep breath and leaned back in his squeaky desk chair. She kept her eyes straight forward to avoid having to look at any of the pictures of women who looked like they had zero body fat who had twisted themselves into awkwardly posed photos.

"Never," she said firmly.

"So inflexible! Sheesh…" He made a face and let his chair squeak as he bounced backwards against the back of it. "That's part of the reason I called you in here today _, Katniss,"_ he said, emphasizing her name. "Gale is a good employee. Customers liked him, I like him, he's good with the divorcees that come in, he's fit….so when he told me he had a friend that I might want to hire…. I took his word for it. But…."

She clenched her fists around her knees and nodded. "Right….okay," she said, because what else could she say? This didn't sound promising.

This sounded like the end of her job at Panem Fitness.

Shit.

* * *

 **Guys, where to even begin? Your support for this story has reminded me all over again why I love this fandom. So many of you have reached out to me (I'm behind on responding! eek!) and told me your personal stories or shared your goals with me and that is just so amazing. I think everyone has struggled with body image (myself included) and I hope that I can portray that in my writing. I will try to make this as real as I can and share Peeta's journey with you. I am so pumped for this fic! Your thoughts and comments and favorites have been so inspiring.  
**

 **Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 3**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," she muttered, balling the paper up in her hand. Mr. Crane had just finished giving her an official write up for not being 'personable' enough with the clients at Panem Fitness. He'd ripped her up and down for not being friendly, outgoing, or even pleasant. In fact, he pretty much confirmed that most of the gym patrons seemed to avoid her because of her scowl.

He told her she was cold and distant and that wasn't what he was looking for in his trainers. He told her to shape up or ship out – his words exactly.

She stalked into the employee only locker room, crumpled up her copy of the write up, and tossed it into the trash. Hastily turning the combination of her padlock, she yanked it open and let it bam loudly back against the other lockers. It was early and most employees weren't in yet, so she didn't feel a bit guilty about having her little hissy fit.

She hated this job and hated it even more than she needed it like hell. Trying was the only option. She couldn't lose this crappy job and that killed her. If she lost her job now, she'd risk everything – Prim's tuition, their house, and any chance at survival they had. The old, historic home she and Prim lived in was nothing special. It was cheap, roomy, and the rent had remained at the same number for the last three years. Her landlord pretended not to notice when she was a few days late on the rent or her share of the sewer bill, but if she lost her job? It was hard to imagine he'd let them stay long.

"Fuck," she grunted, slamming her hand into the door. It gave a satisfying slam as it bounced against the metal of her open padlock. The door swung back into place to reveal the face of the absolute last person she wanted to see at that moment besides Cato or Mr. Crane.

"Rough morning?" Gale asked, his green eyes twinkling.

She wanted to haul back and smack him at the sight of his smug grin. Gale had always been a morning person and he had always loved to give her a good natured ribbing in the morning when she was still in a sour 'don't talk to me' stupor.

"Fuck off, Gale," she spat.

He just chuckled. He was used to her candor and spitfirey-ness in the mornings.

"What'd you do _now,_ Catnip?" he asked, his sing-song tone almost bored.

"Don't call me that," she snapped sharply, yanking a towel out of the locker. She balled it up and considered punching something. Gale, the lockers, what did it matter?

"Go on," he ignored her, gesturing good naturedly.

She slumped against the lockers. Gale wasn't really who she was angry at – she wasn't even angry at Mr. Crane or even Cato. She was sucky at her job and she knew it – Cato was a shitty choice in date and she knew it. She had no one to blame for getting into these crappy situations but herself.

Swallowing her pride, she looked at her best friend. He was swirling some sort of concoction that looked like black dirt in drink form and watching her with mild interest. She exhaled sharply with a snort.

"Do I scowl all the time?"

He took a sip of his protein shake and swallowed, nodding to himself. "You mean your everlasting case of _Resting Bitchface?"_ he deadpanned. "Yes, you have it quite often."

"Resting bitchface? What does that even _mean?"_

"Buzzfeed did an entire article on it. It means you scowl, Catnip. Even when you're not being a bitch your face is just twisted into this…bitchy, scowl-y,….well, bitchface. Now come on, what's this all about? Crane jump up your ass or something?"

"Got written up. Asshole actually _wrote me up_ and threatened to give me a pay decrease for being cold, distant, and for….basically scowling all the time."

She ripped off her t-shirt she wore into work and tried not to notice as Gale wrinkled his nose at the sight of her in a sports bra. Hastily pulling on her annoyingly tight Panem Fitness tank top, she yanked it into place and slammed her locker shut and secured the padlock.

"I don't _mean_ to always scowl."

"But you _do_ always scowl."

She glared at him.

He held up his hands in mock defense, nearly spilling his shake. "I tell you that _all the time._ "

"I know. It's just that…..I know you got me this job and I should just be thankful but I hate it Gale, I _hate_ it," she groaned, reaching down to stretch out the hem of her shirt. She still wasn't sure how people got used to wearing such tight clothes all the time. Nothing like having it all out on display.

"Ungrateful much? _Jesus, Kat_ …"

"Don't call me that. Your stupid boss calls me Kat and I fucking hate it," she snapped.

" _Our_ boss. And…you don't hate it, you hate Crane and you hate most people, but you don't suck at it. You hate it because it forces you out of your comfort zone. You have to talk to people, smile once in a while and try to just put yourself out there. It's a gym, Katniss, it's not NASA. You can do this – you're fit, you're capable, and you just have to try a little. I think you'll find it won't kill you," he said, giving her a charming smile.

She rolled her eyes and for an instant worried they'd get stuck that way. "Easy for you to say. For being an absolute troll you seem to be able to turn on the charm and customer service whenever you want to."

He shrugged. "Whatever keeps me out of a monkey suit all day and doing something physical that pays the bills, sure," he replied. "I never wanted to live that kinda life. Nine to five, stuck in a cube being slowly choked by a tie. That wasn't me, never was…and it isn't you. You could be doing something worse than teaching yoga and working on your abs all day. Admit it. For the first time in your life you have a job that has decent hours, fair pay, and you didn't have to clean out a fry bin today. It could be so much worse, don't you get it?"

The only thing worse than Gale thinking he was right was Gale actually _being_ right.

"I guess…"

"So quit bitching about your life – that is back on track for once, by the way…you're _welcome,"_ he grumbled playfully. "Just get out there and do a good job so I don't look like the dick that got the boss to hire his lazy ass friend…who has a resting bitchface."

She swung at him as he burst out laughing.

"I hate you!" she snapped, but as soon as he let her hit him on the second swing, she couldn't help but bust up laughing. Gale was right – she was just trying to ruin a good thing before she let herself be happy. She needed to stop it, straighten out, and do her job.

"Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right."

"Well," she sighed, "You usually think you're right. But eh…I will. I'll try to behave and just work and not scowl all the time."

"Gale Hawthorne: personal trainer and life coach."

"Don't get cocky."

"Already there."

* * *

And she tried that day – she honestly tried. After her pep talk with Gale, Katniss was resigned to finally step up and put her mind to succeeding at her job. They finished their morning set up and once everyone was at work, met for the morning 'huddle' as Mr. Crane liked to call it. There they talked about classes they would teach, who was in charge of setting up what, and what exercises they needed to try to incorporate into their one on one sessions for the day.

It was a Saturday – the gym's busiest day. People put off working out all week long and the first day of the weekend was always the day when the guilt would drive them back in. They were almost fully staffed that day for the anticipated rush. Finnick, one of Gale's best friends who was nice but ticked Katniss off by completely objectifying women was working, along with Gale's current random hookup, Johanna. Cato, Marvel, and a slew of other beefed up guys with ridiculous names were also working that day. She snickered to herself – most of the guys that worked there could barely form sentences. The only thing they did know how to do was lift weights over and over, take selfies in the mirror, and look great in a pair of gym shorts. Cato caught her eye and gave her a cocky nod behind Mr. Crane's back as he spoke. She averted her eyes and prayed to god she could just avoid him that day.

"Just a reminder, I want you to all start using the blue cleaning spray on the mats…someone complained that the other kind was giving people rashes…."

Her attention span drifted as Crane droned on. She had to at least try that day – he'd not been joking when he'd told her she needed to work harder to succeed. Part of the reason she was so pissy was that she knew he was right.

"I know I've told you all to watch the fraternizing with the clients, that should be a no brainer…but please, if you're going to date each other, at least try to keep it out of the workplace. No drama, people," he reminded them, eyeing Finnick. Finnick gave him an innocent look, throwing up his hands while a few of the other guys just snickered. One of the spin instructors had left the locker room screaming about finding someone else's sports bra in Finnick's locker last week.

 _Drama,_ she thought.

"Alright, let's have a spectacular day today troops. Kick some ass and take some names, people. Let's help them get fit!"

After he ended the huddle, her boss motioned her over. "Katniss, I'm going to be assigning you some one on one sessions this weekend. I want you to start training clients and offering sessions on your own."

"-But-"

"No 'buts', now just try it. I want you to focus on clients and less on just getting the work done. I hope this helps you relate better to them. I'll be judging you on how well you can help them transform and meet their fitness goals too. It's shape up or ship out for you, Kat."

Her shoulders slumped as he thumped her on the back and headed back to his office. "Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath. She had no clue how to be a personal trainer and even less of a clue of how to coach someone one on one.

This was going to officially suck.

* * *

"I have no idea how to be a personal trainer one on one. I should just quit now," she moaned into her beer that night. She'd managed to avoid Crane and Cato all day, but Gale had caught her on his way out of the locker room at the end of her shift and coaxed her into having a beer with him and Finnick.

"I teach yoga to small groups. I can teach someone how to work on their core. I can't take someone who is hopeless and shape them into some sort of Greek God. That's what people expect when they get a trainer, you know. They expect miracles. Miracles I cannot produce, I don't care how badly I need this stupid job."

Gale rolled his eyes at her and took a long drag of his beer. "You're awfully drama-ey and whiney today. You know, you don't have to turn someone into something they're not. It's about building a relationship with your client and working with them to make themselves feel better. If they show up to your sessions and get healthier, then you've done your job."

"But what if I fail? I can't fail, Gale…I'm about ninety nine percent sure Crane is going to fire me the first time I step one _toe_ out of line…"

"He might. But you gonna just give up?"

"No," she grumbled. "I'm just….not overly eager about taking on a client one on one. I'm…horrible at this. I lack social skills, confidence, knowledge…this is going to be a disaster."

"You're fine, you don't lack social skills. That's all in your head, Catnip."

She shot him a dark look. Gale withered back slightly before taking another gulp of his beer. "Maybe if you wore a paper bag over your head…"

Katniss buried her head in her arms and groaned loudly, earning a few weirded out looks from the bar patrons nearby. Gale shook her shoulder until she looked up.

"Look…all you have to do is give your client some guidance. And you know more about this stuff than you think you do. I mean…they come to the gym to learn about fitness and to get healthier. If you give them some confidence and teach them to do something they might not have been able to physically accomplish before they started then that's a good starting off point. Just figure out their goals and try to help them reach them. It's not rocket science, Catnip."

She took a long sip of her draft and stared down into the amber bubbles. "Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right," he laughed, taking another sip of his beer. "You just need to relax and try to make this job work. This isn't a bad set up for you. Don't screw it up."

Katniss scowled at him and wrapped her hands around the frosty mug. "You're just saying that because you don't want me to get fired."

"True. It's nice that we can work together and do something physical."

"Some of us more than others," she replied snidely, giving him a pointed look. "Have you been busted yet for dating Johanna? You know we're not supposed to sleep with our coworkers. Not sure how you haven't gotten your ass canned for that."

Gale shrugged. "Jo's hot. She's crazy, but…I like her. She's not clingy, she doesn't care for fancy shit…and she still lets me fuck her when I'm all sweaty without moaning and bitching about how bad I stink. Well…she does _some_ moaning, but…" he chuckled. He held up his hand to prepare himself for the smack that was coming from Katniss.

"Sick," she grumbled, whopping him on the back of the head. "You're like a third grader when you talk about girls."

"You love me."

"We've been friends for so long that I feel like I _have_ to love you. I love you like a mother has to love her annoying little kid. I'd take a bullet for you Gale, but that doesn't mean I have to like you."

"No it does not. But no, she's cool. Crane can tell me not to stick my dick into clients, but he doesn't get to specify when it comes to coworkers. He simply just…eluded to the idea that it was in poor taste to date our coworkers, it isn't forbidden. Clients are the only ones he told us to keep out paws off of."

"Leave it to you to skirt every rule there is and get away with it."

"I do what I can."

"Yeah, well it's still gross, I don't care who you're boinking. You're like a brother to me. A big, annoying, smelly brother."

She finished her beer and slid it towards the center of the table. "I'm going to go home. See if I can whip something up for dinner before Prim gets home from study group."

"Way to be an adult. Don't you wanna to wait for Finnick? He's meeting me up here any second."

"And listen to the two of you ramble on about who you want to bang and what you can deadlift now? Nah," she shrugged, tossing a few crumpled ones onto the table.

"But that's so interesting," he insisted comically flagging the waitress for another beer.

Katniss rolled her eyes. "So much for intriguing conversation. No….I need to go be a parent."

"As long as you're a personal trainer tomorrow," he reminded her.

Katniss slung her purse across her body and sighed. "Don't remind me."

* * *

She'd cut out on Gale after just one and a half beers, opting to head home and offer to help Prim study. It wouldn't do her any good to sit in a seedy bar and bitch and moan to her best friend. So, she's left the little pub while it was still light out, the early spring air crisp as she made her way to the historic part of the town where she lived. While most of their good sized town could be labeled up and coming, the older part of it still boasted houses over a hundred years old and even a few remaining cobblestone streets. The trees were old and tall, their thick roots making some of the sidewalks uneven in places as she walked, but the character was what she loved. Her neighborhood was a toss up – half the houses had been bought and completely restored by yuppies, while half remained in a state of slight disrepair and were divided up as apartments. But she didn't mind – the rent was fair and it was within walking distance to the university where Prim attended school. She'd gotten used to plaster walls with sparse insulation and one electrical outlet per room, and it had become home in the years they'd lived there.

The bottom porch step of the huge old house creaked in protest as she made her way up. Someone jumped out from behind one of the old, halfway rotting pillars making her yelp in surprise.

"Effie!" she gasped, "Shit." Her hands unclenched the handle of her gym bag as she exhaled sharply.

"Oh! I'm so sorry dear, I just…I was out here having a cigarette, and-"

"You smoke?" Katniss frowned. "I didn't know you smoked."

She thought she's seen just about everything from her lonely, eccentric neighbor. Well, both of her neighbors could fall into that category, really. The old house she rented was so huge it had been split into three apartments. The upstairs neighbor was Effie, the middle floor was where she and Prim lived, and in the basement lived Haymitch, a functioning alcoholic who worked for the city.

Effie tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ears and awkwardly looked at the un-lit cigarette in her hand.

"Well, no, but….it's nice to get outside every once in a while," she replied, her voice a few octaves too high. Katniss winced at the shrill tone but tried to keep a smile on her face. Effie was a little nosy and too energetic for her taste, but she went to bed early after too much Chardonnay and was pretty quiet upstairs. She worked part time as a cosmetologist in town and Katniss thought she had a little too much time on her hands. She'd recently been hanging around the side of the porch that overlooked the basement door where Haymitch came and went. Katniss wasn't sure if she really wanted to know what was going on there or not.

"Well…that's true. I'm gonna go inside and shower. I might make Sloppy Joes later, you want to come down?" she asked, trying to keep the pity out of her voice.

Effie's face softened as she reached out and gave Katniss a pat on the shoulder.

"You are so kind, dear, but no! Prim showed me how to use Netflix today and there's a fresh box of Franzia waiting for me. We single girls have all the fun, don't we?"

Katniss wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or sincere, so she just laughed softly and nodded.

"Well, if you change your mind…"

She left Effie on the side of the sprawling front porch, the older women peeking over the railing at the basement door. Haymitch was like a raccoon – she only either saw him late at night or early in the morning, looking like he scurrying either somewhere or nowhere. That and he was usually drunk or _still_ drunk when he came home (depending on the time of day) and would run into the trash cans on the side of the house, scaring everyone in the vicinity from a sound sleep. But, he kept to himself and as always around to change the fuses when they blew or fix a leaky faucet.

Effie was another story completely. She'd shown up two years ago with both a fresh divorce and fresh bruises. A bit to take ta first, but Katniss had gotten used to her shrill voice, hot pink manicures and love of any and all boxed wine. She'd come downstairs to their apartment and watch TV with Prim when Katniss worked late and didn't criticize her for being a shitty older sister sometimes. All in all, her home situation wasn't bad.

"Hey," she greeted, dropping her bag on the table by the door. Winding her way to the kitchen, she found her sister perched at the kitchen counter bent over a large book. Her too-old, on it's last leg laptop whirred frantically beside her, causing Prim to lift it up with one hand and fan it with the other.

"Hey! Darn thing…do you know what happened to the fan for this laptop? It keeps overheating and popping off every five seconds."

Katniss' shoulders slumped as she yanked the fridge open, grabbing a carton of ground beef. "It's on the table in the hall, under your jean jacket."

"That meat still okay? You got it from the Piggy Wiggly almost a week ago," Prim wrinkled her nose, sticking her pencil into the messy bun on top of her head.

Katniss sliced the packaging on the ground chuck and sniffed. "Smells fine. It's only a day past the 'use by' date. We can't be picky, Prim."

She heard her sister sigh from her place at the counter. Prim could be an empath at times; she could smell a mood on someone at the drop of a hat.

"Rough day? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

The meat sizzled as it hit the pan. It didn't have the sickening stink of meat that had gone rancid, so Katniss figured they were in the clear. In the years since her mother's death she'd learned how to take twenty bucks and buy enough food to stretch them for an extra six or seven days if she had to. She'd gone to bed hungry, to work hungry, and pretty much everywhere in-between hungry. The part that really bothered her was the fact that hunger never got easier to bear. She should have been used to going without and feeling the pain that came with it, but she'd be lying to herself. It didn't get easier. The gnawing feeling of hunger was one she knew all too well. First was the growling stomach, then the shaky feeling that set in, then the headaches. That would roll into dizzy spells and when she could barely stand it and ate again, _finally_ , her stomach would feel like an empty, cavernous pit that could never be full.

Staying fed was practically an art form.

One she'd failed at, more than once.

She spread the meat out on the sizzling skillet. Over her shoulder, she watched Prim return to her studying and made herself _swear_ that she wouldn't fuck this job up. The path back to being poor and hungry was a slippery slope and she was determined not to fall.

* * *

 **For those of you who aren't classy enough to be familiar with Franzia, it is a lovely variety of boxed wine : )**

 **I think I'm going to try to stick with a Monday update each week. I'll try my best to stick to the schedule, but life happens. Fingers crossed!**

 **Thank you for reading and for your support and personal stories. I love writing this fic! So good to be back. Thank you all!**

 **The Effie/Haymitch storyline came to me at the last minute before I posted this, so I hope you like bits and pieces of their story woven into this one.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Peeta sipped his lager and glanced around the bar. He hadn't really wanted to come out that night, but figured drinking in the company of his brother was better than drinking alone in his apartment.

"This place has the best nachos, I swear," Rye muttered, crunching happily on another nacho-cheese soaked chip. "The cheese is like perfectly melty and I think it's a tad spicy…Peet?"

Peeta was busy, lost in his thoughts. He'd been nearly useless at work that day – so much so that his dad had even noticed.

" _Is this about that girl, son?"_

" _What girl, dad?" he'd tried to play dumb at first, hoping he wouldn't have to rehash the Glimmer catastrophe again._

" _You know which girl. Miss long blonde hair, prances in and buys pastries every few weeks. You know."_

" _Oh, you mean the girl I asked out and then had her ruthlessly shoot me down and call me fat? Yeah dad, this is about her."_

" _Son…" he dad had sighed, "We're big boned people. You need to accept that and move on. She's pretty and all that, but you'll find someone who appreciates you for you. And when you do…never let her go."_

"Peet?"

"Sorry, what?" he asked, turning back to Rye. His brother gave him a weird look before digging back into his nachos.

"If you want some of these, you'd better make it quick. Holy shit, there's like a whole other layer of chips under this layer of cheese…"

Peeta cleared his throat and gripped his glass. He had always enjoyed bars, but they made him a little nervous. Women came to bars to drink and flirt and to pick up guys, but he'd never had such luck. He was always the wingman for his friends or the guy who would buy drinks for girls in hopes he could talk to them. Usually all he got was a slightly creeped out smile and a trite 'thanks' before they scampered off like he had the plague. No, bars had never really been his 'scene'.

He was in a mopey rut, but had no idea how to pull himself out of it. Glimmer had rejected him almost a week ago and he hadn't seen her since. He'd certainly filled the gap of her presence with food, no issue there. His nights had been filled with late night pizza deliveries and a six pack all to himself since that day. It was horrible pattern that he was having a difficult time breaking –not that he would ever know how. He'd even gone to the grocery store that afternoon, completely set on getting all of the crap out of his fridge so that it wouldn't be there to tempt him and try to replace it with healthy food. Instead, he'd stood in the produce section of the town's giant chain-health food store and stared blankly at all of the options. Everything was bright, leafy, and he had no clue what to do with it. _It looked like rabbit food that would keep you full for all of five minutes¸_ he thought. In the end, he'd replaced his basket at the front of the store and had walked out empty handed and utterly confused on what to do next.

Starve and be miserable, or stay fat and get even more miserable? The only option he'd been able to think of was to invite his just as single brother out for a beer. So far he'd been able to resist the huge, greasy pile of nachos Rye had ordered, but it wasn't easy. The smell of the hot, spicy cheese melting over the crispy chips was making his empty stomach rumble in protest.

 _This was impossible._

Eager to change the subject, he turned to his brother and tried to ignore the food in front of him.

"Do you think Bran is happy with Delly?" he asked, thinking of his sister in law. Bran had met his wife in college twelve years and about a hundred pounds ago. Peeta loved his oldest brother and knew what a great guy he was from growing up with him, but he'd been pleasantly surprised when he realized Delly had seen that too. Bran was a big guy with an equally big heart, the type who would give someone the shirt off his back or do anything for anyone. Delly clearly recognized that in him – he'd seen the way his sister in law looked at Bran. It was the face of a woman who adored her husband and loved him for who he was on the inside. She'd never made one snide comment about Bran's weight, nor would anyone else's and she _never_ expect his brother to change.

Where Delly's kind heart and loving personality overshadowed a lot of things in their family, it didn't do the same for Peeta's mother. She'd made several comments about Bran's size and how Delly was not exactly skinny herself.

Peeta didn't get it, really. Delly was gorgeous, at least to Peeta. Her pretty pale skin was accented by her bright, crystalline blue eyes and round, rosy cheeks and framed with her light blonde curls. She was one of those people who had a cheerful voice and was _always_ smiling. Bran had even given her the nickname 'Sunshine' and Peeta could see why. Sometimes he thought his older brother was the luckiest guy in the world, and Peeta had loved her like a big sister instantly.

But his mother just didn't see any of that. Instead, it was comments about how _round_ Delly had gotten and how her short height wasn't doing her any favors.

Her insults over the years seemed to echo in his head as he sat and gripped his glass. Delly got the least of it compared to Peeta.

 _Pudgy. Fatty. Lard butt._

"Do I think Bran is happy with Delly? Hells yes, brother. And why not? She's a doll. Sweet, loves the heck outta him, puts up with mom, cooks like a saint. What's not to love?"

Peeta sighed. "You ever want that?"

Rye blinked. "Of course I do, Peet. Just haven't met the right girl s'all."

Peeta watched his overweight brother shovel another few nachos into his mouth and glance around the bar without a care in the world.

 _What woman would want us at this weight though? We're nice guys, but girls have such high standards…._

"I just…I want that, Rye. I want a wife, and…and maybe kids."

His brother clapped him on the back, shrugging. "You'll get there. You're a cool dude, bro. You were a little weird as a kid, but I dunno, you turned out alright. You'll meet that girl," Rye grinned.

Peeta glanced around the bar and winced. Everyone around him suddenly seemed younger, thinner, and more attractive than he could have ever hoped to be. Where did that leave someone like him? Pushing thirty, overweight, and inexperienced? He didn't really have a ton to offer a prospective date... _Not compared to this crowd, anyway,_ he thought. How did people get so thin? Not just thin – good-looking? He shifted in his seat. He'd been uncomfortable before, but could never remember feeling this uncomfortable in his own skin. He wanted to talk to someone about it, but suddenly Rye didn't seem like the right person. What could he say to his older brother that would make him understand the poisonous thoughts swirling around his mind?

 _I hate who I am. I hate the way I look. I don't feel like this body matches the person I am on the inside. I avoid mirrors._

 _I hate my life._

Peeta inhaled deeply, suddenly not very thirsty _or_ hungry. That last thought had been a reoccurring theme lately. It was scary.

"You think I'd get a nice girl with this body?"

Rye glanced up from his nachos, chewing thoughtfully. "You want my honest opinion?"

Peeta nodded.

Rye shrugged nonchalantly and wiped his hands on one of the flimsy napkins. "If you meet the right girl, it shouldn't matter what you look like. She wouldn't care."

"Yeah but…they do. When's the last time you saw me out on a date?"

"When's the last time you _asked_ someone on a date?" Rye countered.

"The…well the thought of taking a girl home and….you _know…_ I just can't. It…the thought of doing that makes me sick."

"You don't wanna?" Rye frowned, pausing. An awkward beat passed before he spoke. "You uh….you like guys, Peet?"

"What?" Peeta jolted upwards, his eyes wide. "That is not at all what I was trying to say here, Jesus…"

"It's fine if you do man, I don't….it's cool-"

"-No, you're…I don't think you get what I'm saying. I asked out Glimmer and I just…part of me thought about what would have happened had she said yes. If… I took her home and we…if it got to the point where we…"

"Oh!" his brother's face lit up with understanding. "You'd have to get naked."

"Yes."

Rye thought a moment more, wiping his hands on the already frayed napkin. "I don't think the girl you marry should care what you look like naked. I don't think whoever you end up with should give two shits about what size your clothes are."

"But how do you find a girl who will even take you seriously if you don't…if you're this size? I've always been the friend, Rye. No girl wants a guy like me."

His older brother leaned back in his chair. Surprise and shock were painted on his face.

"Peeta, this doesn't sound like you, man. Are you still upset about that Glimmer girl? Don't be. Not wife material, Peet."

Peeta snorted. "Who said I'm looking for a wife, Rye? I'm just looking for someone to-"he stopped himself, lowering his voice. "I just want to cross that main bridge if you know when I mean."

Rye gave him a skeptical look. His older brother had been a little more outgoing in college and didn't have the same virgin-y problem that Peeta had. He'd played football for state and had a few more opportunities than his little brother, so to speak. He hadn't gotten much action since his college football days, but it was at least experience, Peeta realized. It would have been humiliating to have to tell someone like Glimmer, who could probably have any guy she wanted, that he was a virgin.

A fat virgin.

Peeta's eyes were drawn to the guy drinking a few tables down. Even in his jeans and faded white t-shirt, one could tell he was built. Slim waist, a thick, defined chest, and corded muscled arms that flexed every time he lifted his beer mug. He sighed and drained the rest of his drink. It would take him a hundred years to get a body like that. _How do guys even get that buff? Do they just eat plain chicken and broccoli all day?_

Rye followed his gaze and the two of them watched as discretely as possible as another man walked up to Buff Guy's table. If Peeta had thought Buff Guy number One was built, he had almost nothing on Buff Guy number Two. This man was model-esque in the face with defined cheek bones and crystalline eyes, but he too was trim and fit looking. His muscles were leaner and more defined and Peeta pretty much thought he was going to be sick.

He turned his attention back to Rye. "What would you give to look like that?"

His brother snorted. "Looks like a lotta work, Peet. Plus, you don't know – could be steroids or something like that. No tellin' what they did to look like that. Besides – they might be miserable and hate themselves."

Peeta stared down into his empty mug. _What if I already am miserable and practically hate myself?_ He wondered. As much as he loathed to admit it, he had hit rock bottom. His thoughts were buzzed but clear as he realized it. He didn't want to be the fat guy anymore, or the lonely guy, or the sidekick, or any other lame, self-deprecating term he'd always associated with himself.

It was _definitely_ time for a change.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Week 1**

The next day was his day off, and Peeta chalked it up to fate. There was literally nothing on his list of things to do that day. If he'd truly hit rock bottom, then the only place he could go was up. And that was where he planned to go. He was out of excuses and ways to avoid it.

Today was the day.

He rose early – that wasn't really motivation, it was really just being used to baker's hours – and quickly showered and shaved. He paused in front of the full length mirror in his bathroom and surveyed his body in the morning light. Poking at his thick side, he pinched at the fat roll that was there and then dug his fingers into to flab to poke what he could only hope was muscle. Grimacing, he did his best to shake off his loathing and nervousness and dug out his most-forgiving black t-shirt. It hugged his arms and did a decent job of camouflaging his round middle. Pairing it with a pair of gray sweats, he pulled out his worn sneakers and pulled them on. _Surprised they don't have dust on them,_ he lamented to himself.

Dressing himself was suddenly the most difficult thing he'd ever done.

Checking his coat for his wallet, keys and phone, he loaded himself into his car and opened Google Maps to type 'gyms'.

A few popped up – Panem wasn't a huge town, but it was big enough to offer him several options. He read a few reviews, but people started talking about this trainer or that, the meal plans involved, the equipment, the this and that….soon his head was spinning. This was going to be harder than he could have ever imagined.

 _Just put the car into drive,_ he chided himself. _Just go. Do it._

Heaving another sigh, he picked one that said 'Panem Fitness' and started driving before he could procrastinate even more. He stalled another few minutes in the parking lot before sucking it up and finally walking inside.

A wide, open reception area greeted him. The girl behind the counter looked up, quickly slapping a smile that was a little too wide on her face.

"Welcome to Panem Fitness!" she trilled.

He learned her name was actually _Cashmere_ and that her voice only got higher the more excited she got. Why she was so excited talking to him about gym memberships he didn't know, but he supposed Cashmere wouldn't get excited about the bakery's new mixer the way he would. _To each their own,_ he thought as she rattled off the packages.

"I'll do…the six month," he heard himself say. _Shit._ It cost an arm and a leg, but he would get a personal trainer, three visits with the dietician on staff, and access to every machine they offered. It was more money than he would have ever thought, but he paid it all –every last cent. _No turning back now._

"Now we'll just need to measure you and take pictures…"

His head shot up from the release forms he was filling out. "Huh?"

"The before and afters? It's part of the program!" she exclaimed, flashing her too-white teeth. "We'll get your measurements and that way we can document your progress. If you aren't happy with your results or where you should be in the six months, we'll look at changing your program."

"Uh…" he hadn't expected this part. He felt himself get a little sweaty.

"Right this way!"

He shuffled his feet to a room off to the side, his heart pounding in his chest. This would be mortifying. He was so focused on what was about to happen that he nearly collided with a man coming out of the office next door.

"Whoa!"

"Oh! I'm sorry Mr. Crane!" Cashmere exclaimed, throwing her manicured hands up as she pulled Peeta to the side. "I was just helping Mr. Mellark here! We're so sorry!"

She seemed a little panicked, Peeta noticed. The tall man he'd almost run into looked every bit the gym buff, and he no doubt worked there. His body was long and lithe and what parts of it Peeta could see were tan and corded with muscle. He wore expensive looking track pants and a shirt that clung to every inch of his torso, while his hair was slicked back and styled in a way Peeta didn't very much care for. His facial hair was shaved into an intricate pattern that had to have taken him an hour to do. Everything about him screamed money and power and self-control. Everything Peeta wasn't.

 _Douchebag,_ he thought while slapping on another smile. Deep down he knew berating the good looking, albeit strange looking man in front of him wouldn't help him one bit in this, but he couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry about that. Wasn't watching where I was going."

The man Cashmere had referred to as 'Mr. Crane' glanced at him, giving him a not-so-subtle once over. Peeta swore he saw his smile falter slightly before straightening out again.

"Mr. Mellark, was it? How happy we are to have you here at Panem Fitness. Has Cashmere given you a rundown of the services we provide?"

"She has," Peeta nodded.

"Mr. Mellark signed up for the six month package!" Cashmere interjected. "I was just about to do his measurements."

"The six month?! Is that so…" Another up and down glance of his body and Mr. Crane couldn't seem to control his skeptical glance. "My, that's…ambitious. But we're here to help you any way we can. In fact…" he touched his chin as if deep in thought, and his eyes lit up slightly.

 _Wow,_ Peeta thought, _this guy just judged the shit out of me. I bet he thinks there's no way this fatty is going to make it here six months. Maybe he's right._

Peeta looked at his shoes. Crane's eyes were more than he could stomach at the moment; the piercing blue gaze felt like it was gnawing its way down to the very core of his insecurities. Did he pick the wrong gym? The place looked huge on the inside with booming, upbeat music and people coming in and out the front door. Maybe he should have picked somewhere smeller, somewhere with fewer clients…he'd hoped that he would blend in, lost in the crowd of everyone else.

In a way, he'd hoped the vast size of Panem Fitness would help him feel smaller.

So far, he felt like he was larger than ever and out on full display for the world to see and judge, and he'd only met two people. The familiar feeling of bitterness laced with despair settled in the pit of his stomach, where it remained like a ball of lead.

"I have just the trainer for you, Mr. Mellark. She's working today! I'll have Cashmere here run and fetch her. Cashmere, be a dear and pull Katniss from the back, will you? I have her cleaning yoga mats today."

 _Yuck,_ Peeta thought. _I wouldn't want to be cleaning the sweat off of used up yoga mats. Poor girl. Wait…girl?!_

Cashmere's smiled briefly faltered, but she nodded and scampered off to do as she was bade.

Mr. Crane stood and rattled off facts and figures about the gym as they waited for Cashmere to return. Peeta's mind was going too fast to even pay attention – what had he gotten himself into?! He nodded and put on his best polite 'smile and nod' façade while Crane spoke. He even took him around the corner where Peeta laid eyes on about a hundred complicated looking contraptions he had no idea how to work or vague idea what they were used for – the rooms were all lined with mirrors and weights of every shape and size and Peeta couldn't' decide what was scarier – not knowing where to start, or knowing he would be able to see his reflection in every corner of the room once he _did_ start.

He was led down to a hallway of smaller rooms equipped with mats, weights, and all sorts of stretchy contraptions he had no words for.

"Ah! Jo is working today. This is a great example of the customer service and one on one help we can provide. She's one of our high motivators," Crane explained. Peeta glanced into the room and his eyes immediately widened. He saw a petite woman wearing what he figured must be the gym's uniform – a tight, stretchy, black looking workout top and equally tight shorts that were striped with maroon and grey, bent over, absolutely _screaming_ into the face of a middle aged man. The door was closed, but Peeta could see through the glass window that her client was in decent shape. What really made him feel ill was the fact that the muscles in his arms and the lack of fat anywhere on his body didn't seem to be helping him in his current situation. Red faced, sweating, and looking like he might throw up, he dipped down into another pushup. Peeta was pretty sure what was coming out of her mouth as she crouched on the mat next to the struggling man weren't words of encouragement.

He was feeling so sick he thought he might just throw up and high tail it out of the gym. _The door isn't far away…_

"Mr. Mellark, I'd like you to meet one of our best personal trainers – Katniss. Katniss, Mr. Mellark has signed up for our six month challenge package," Crane explained, "And I want you to work with him to _really_ figure out what his goals are. Really push!"

 _There's that tone again,_ Peeta thought. _Like he's decided I'm not even worth it. We didn't even meet five minutes ago. Why is that people automatically write people who aren't beautiful off?_

Peeta was almost so busy sulking he didn't notice the girl who had appear at Crane's side. He felt himself stop breathing and he _really_ started to sweat.

His trainer, Katniss, was _stunning._

Her eyes caught his and he swallow dryly. They were orbs of steely silver, uniquely offset by her slightly olive skin and dark mahogany hair. She had it twisted into an intricate side braid, but pieces of it had fallen out to shape her perfectly oval face. High cheekbones and full lips accented her already beautiful features and Peeta thought he might faint. _This_ was the girl who was going to help him?

 _I might as well go home now. Yup. Just mumble something about having explosive diarrhea, run for the door, and never look back. Solid plan._

Mr. Crane stood around long enough to give Katniss a brief rundown of what he recommended for Peeta, but it was lost on him. The blood was pounding in his ears and he was certain he was a shade of ruddy pink that was just about the most unattractive thing ever. He found himself staring at the wall and the ceiling and anything but the people in front of him as they finalized what they would do for the day.

Peeta sighed in relief when Mr. Crane walked away, but realized now he would actually have to _speak_ to the gorgeous vixen in front of him.

"Erm, hi," she greeted awkwardly, scratching her head. "Thank you for…uh..picking Panem Fitness…" she trailed off, shaking her head uneasily. "They make me say that…"

"…No, it's…fine," he chuckled. "Uh…I'm Peeta."

"Katniss. But my….boss probably told you that."

"Yeah, uh…."

There was a beat of awkward silence before she motioned to a little room off to the side. "We can weigh you and take measurements over here."

Katniss' day wasn't going much better.

Crane had made it clear to her that this was indeed her last shot at this. She was still within her 90 day orientation period and could easily be fired for next to no reason at all. She needed this job and she hated like hell that she did, but there was no getting around it when there was tuition to pay and food to buy. If Prim was going to stay in school she couldn't be worrying about the rent being due or where her next meal would be coming from. She had to buckle down and focus on this if she was actually going to help this poor guy.

And boy did he look like he needed it. Not that she was judging- people of all shapes and sizes came into the gym all day long. Even though she was in relatively good shape, she realized that working out wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't always fun. The effort it took her to drag herself to that place every day was monumental and she was being _paid_. How anyone could get motivated enough to actually do the opposite and pay to go there was beyond her capacity of reasoning.

 _He must really want to change,_ she thought.

Peeta was still reeling from the shock of having been assigned such a gorgeous woman for a trainer when she talked about weighing him. He was fairly certain if he could get over the humiliation of this experience he would be able to survive anything. Suddenly asking Glimmer on a date paled in comparison with the situation he now found himself in.

He followed, the blood rushing in his ears. She glanced back at him expectantly.

"What? Sorry, I…."

"I said 'It's okay'. You look really uh...nervous," she glanced over her shoulder, sneaking a look at him. And he did – eyes darting around, wiping his palms on his sweats, and doing his best to look pretty much anywhere but at her. _If he only knew I was twice as nervous as he is, he would feel fine,_ she groaned to herself.

"Do I?" he asked, following her into the little room. There was a plain desk with a computer, a plain photo backdrop and camera, and….a scale.

He had to swallow back his nerves as he waited for her to sit down and fire up the computer. She didn't quite look like she knew what she was doing. After fumbling around for a few agonizing minutes, she finally got it turned on and loaded while he stood and looked anywhere but at her. He couldn't be sure who was more uncomfortable.

"You can get on. I'll um, try to get the…camera set up."

Peeta stepped one toe on the scale. His heart was in his throat and the blood was now roaring in his ears. If there wasn't an inch of him stained with scarlet from blushing so hard he would have been absolutely shocked.

Once he was on, he looked up slightly.

Katniss walked closer, and he tried to focus on the way her scent wafted gently towards him. Her fingers were clumsy as she moved the weights on the scale to get a proper reading.

"D-do I have to look?"

She looked up at him in surprise, then at the number on the scale. Did he think it was _that_ bad? The tips of his ears were stained pink, the same color as he cheeks. He chewed his lip and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Erm, well don't you want to see your starting point?"

She wasn't sure what to even say at this point – it became apparent to her that this Peeta was mortified to be at a gym and embarrassed about his weight.

"Not really, I…." he glanced at the number anyway, his heart sinking slightly. He weighed at least fifteen pounds heavier than he thought he would have, had he been brave enough to actually own a scale. It was worse than he'd thought.

"You can step down. We're all done," she said softly, trying to move on from the awkward moment. Choosing to skip the pictures for now, she had him sit down beside the desk while she filled out some of his health information on the computer. After asking him some basic questions the he painstakingly answered, she pushed the keyboard away and faced him. Her own cheeks were burning slightly as she cracked the blinds to the little office so that he could see out into the gym a story below.

"You know, everyone out there is here only because they don't like something about themselves."

He glanced up at her in surprise. "What?"

She nodded her head in the direction of the people below who were working out; either lifting, running on treadmills, flexing and taking selfies in front of the rows of mirrors.

"Very few people come to this gym to just be healthy. Everyone down there wants to change something about their body that they don't like. I think everyone has something they'd like to change."

He snorted softly, "Even you?"

She looked at him with surprise, her silvery eyes bright. "I'm not perfect. I have things I don't….that annoy me, about myself."

"Sure, no, that's…." he mumbled, trailing off.

"You have nothing to be worried about. We don't even have to do anything too difficult today. Do you have um…anything you want to focus on?"

He shrugged, scratching his ear idly. "Just….getting more fit. I don't know…that much about fitness, well…obviously," he motioned to himself. "I did sports in high school so really all I know is weight lifting and running."

She nodded. "Let's just…see where the day takes us. We usually have seventy five minutes, is that okay?"

"Yes."

Peeta stared down at the gym floor below, his eyes trained on the mirrors. How terrifying would be to have to watch himself working out? To see his disgusting body moving and shaking and jiggling? In front of _her?_ How was he going to do this? The prospect of it just got more and more mortifying as the minutes ticked agonizingly by. Once she finished with his paperwork, she bypassed the pictures.

"We can do that on day two. Let's just go down to the studio and get started, okay?"

Peeta could only nod as he followed her out of the tiny office and down the steps to the main floor. She wound past the large room with all the mirrors and selfie takers and instead took him into a little room that he could only guess was in the back of the building. High windows blocked any view from the alley, and the sunlight poured through them to illuminate the little room in bright sunlight. Mats lined one side, and while there were a few mirrors there they weren't the only focus of the room. The empty, pale orange walls perfectly accented the lightly colored bamboo floor. The room smelled faintly of oranges and sandalwood and unlike the rest of the gym.

"I teach yoga here a few times a week. I just like it better than all that annoying thumping music out there," she explained, going to a small speaker in the corner. After fiddling with an ipod, calming music soon filled the room.

"Grab a mat. We'll stretch first."

Peeta followed her instructions, rolling out a yoga mat onto the floor and watching for further instructions. Katniss gently walked him through a few basic stretches that were easy enough – he wasn't very limber, but it actually felt good to _try_ to stretch out. She didn't push him – instead, she showed him what to do, watched patiently as he tried, and averted her eyes as they held the stretch for a ten count.

 _Not so bad,_ he thought.

He then jumped slightly as he felt her hand on his back, urging his spine forward as he attempted to touch his toes. He might have been able to had it not been for the spare tire around his middle.

"Breathe…deep breath in, then out, then stretch…there you go," she murmured. He could instantly understand why she was a yoga instructor – her raspy voice was low and smooth and he found himself actually relaxing as she instructed him through the stretches. She sat down on her mat, facing him and motioned for him to do the same.

"How do you feel?"

"Relaxed," he admitted, "You're good at that."

She cracked a smile. It wasn't every day someone told her she was good at her job.

"You should come to yoga sometime. It's not as exciting as lifting weights or cardio, but I bet I could make you sweat!" she laughed, the hearty chuckle surprising him. She seemed to compose herself quickly after, looking at him with her head tilted.

"I'm not sure why he said I was the best trainer. I'm not," she admitted, feeling somewhat relaxed. Peeta was quiet and somewhat reserved, but she liked him so far. He blushed when she touched him and hadn't once looked down her cleavage like every other guy would have. Half the guys in the gym besides Gale made a game of 'accidently' rubbing up against the girls when they were in their tight, spandex-y uniforms. She rolled her eyes at the thought.

"You're pretty good at making me feel…better, about this," he admitted, glancing around the room. Nervousness still laced his tone, but he looked a little calmer. He offered her a bashful smile.

"What do you want to get out of this, Peeta?"

His smile faded slightly. He hadn't expected that question, to be honest.

"I…want to learn about fitness and….erm….get in shape and….just look better?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes searching his. He squirmed slightly and she realized he wasn't being entirely honest. Licking her lip, she pulled one leg up to rest under her chin and watched his face.

"Want to tell me the real reason?"

* * *

 **Oh, you had to know Katniss was going to see right through that! I hope you enjoyed this chapter where Peeta starts to face his fears and meets our girl. He's about to get a reality check!  
**

 **Thank you for all of the kind reviews and responses on this fic - it warms my heart and inspires me to keep writing. I am so glad this fic has resonated with you all and that you are enjoying it. Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

******IMPORTANT******

 **1- Before you read this chapter, please go back to chapter 6 and make sure you read that one first. FFn did NOT send out notifications for chapter 6 for some reason (grumbles) so be sure you catch chapter 6 before this one.**

 **2 -ALL of my writing is on a brief hiatus this summer while I move. My house is officially on the market so writing will be a little tough in the weeks to come. I WILL be back, never fear, I just wanted to keep you all updated. Now READ!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Week 1**

"Want to tell me the real reason?"

Her question had knocked him completely off guard. She watched his reaction, her chin tucked up on one of her knees. She blinked but otherwise held his eyes as he fought to come up with something to say. He drew a complete blank for a moment, losing himself in her gaze. Panic set up. Dropping his eyes to the mat he sat on, he shook his head and felt himself get red in the face.

"I…just want to lose weight. Um…" he felt himself start to cave and made the mistake of looking her in the eye again.

No response. Just the silent quirk of an eyebrow as she watched him.

"There's…this girl," he blurted, instantly cringing. What was worse than getting shot down by a hot girl? Well, apparently getting shot down and then whining about it like a little wimp to the next beautiful woman he came across.

 _I'm going to be single forever,_ he groaned internally.

Katniss sighed, stretching out her leg. "I see."

Her pause left silence in the room, silence that felt so big he felt the need to fill it. With anything.

"She…well she would come into the bakery where I work…and-"

"You work in a bakery?" She asked, her eyes lighting up slightly. "That's awesome!"

"Well, my family owns it which is undoubtedly a little less cool, but more or less, yes. There was uh…this girl that came into the bakery all the time. She was nice and…well I asked her out one day," he said, jumbling the words together as he fought to get them out.

"Oh," Katniss said, her eyebrows raising. "And she said…?"

Peeta gulped.

"She said…that she didn't go out with guys like me."

Katniss' eyes narrowed slightly. "Like…what?"

Peeta had to swallow before he could find the courage to utter the word Glimmer had been too polite to come right out and say. She hadn't said it, true, but it had been written all over her pretty face.

"Fat," he finally uttered, looking back down at the mat.

The girl across from him looked gob smacked.

"Peeta…" Katniss replied, her voice low and soft. Her eyes registered surprise and…pity.

Great.

Just what he needed. Another beautiful girl on the planet that pitied him.

"Yeah, so…I guess…I guess I could sit here all day and…and tell you reasons why I came here today and what finally made me do this but…that's the real reason. That's why I'm here. I asked a girl out and she told me she…." He gulped, trying to force himself to say the words. Trying to say the most mortifying, slicing words he'd ever heard. "…didn't date fat guys."

Peeta stared at the mat on the floor until the color blurred, making his eyes hurt. A tiny bit of weight felt like it had been lifted from him, yet at the same time it was like re-living the time-stopping moment all over again. Suddenly he wasn't in the little room with the bright sunlight and Katniss; he was in the bakery, surrounded by the smells of everything warm and delicious and satisfying. He could feel the rush of bravery he'd felt that day before asking Glimmer out and then the sinking gut he'd gotten when he'd heard his answer. It was followed by a storm cloud of self-doubt and despair and seemed to linger over him as he waited for her to speak again.

He risked a look up at her again and saw that the look on her face now registered pity and even shock.

The silence in the room felt heavy.

He should have just shut his mouth and stuck to his original story.

"Coming here is a big deal, Peeta. Don't…don't think that it's not. You came here to change and…and I'll do whatever I can to help you with that," she offered, her voice soft. He liked it, he thought. It was raspy and low and somehow soothing to him. The sound of her voice and the look of her pale, piercing eyes was like a temporary balm on his frazzled soul.

"I can't fix you, but…maybe I can help you fix yourself."

 _That's deep,_ he thought.

"It's a crappy reason though, right? Doing this for someone else?"

Katniss was struggling in an entirely new and unexpected way. She was used to the vapid trophy wives and self-absorbed body builders coming into the gym and dealing with them and all of their drama. Somehow though, Peeta had challenged her in a manner she hadn't expected. While she'd known it would be a trial to help a client one on one to sculpt their entire body, the challenge of how to help his clearly battered emotional state was a new surprise she hadn't anticipated. It hadn't even occurred to her that a client would need mental and emotional help on their journey until that moment. Of course people came into the gym with feelings of self-doubt, but Peeta had more than that. Much, much more than that. Glancing over at his shattered expression, it was evident to her that his experience with the girl in the bakery had left his heart beaten to a pulp and his self-confidence a battered mess.

She thought a moment, still reeling from the surprise of his admission. In that moment, Katniss wasn't entirely certain she would have been fearless enough to make such a brave statement in front of someone she'd just met. The fact that he had come here and courageously declared the real reason to her was awe-inspiring to her. Sometimes she felt as though her shyness and reserved attitude would make her the most unlikeable person on the planet.

"I'm not here to say. I'm just here to help," she finally said. Peeta gave her a tight smile and she returned it.

"Thank you."

She could barely nod. She didn't tear up easily, but the sincerity laced in the two little words did more to her than she cared to admit.

"Enough talking. People are…" she trailed off. She'd been about to say ' _assholes'_ but was trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

"Assholes," Peeta sighed.

A laugh slipped out before she could stop it and he chuckled along with her. A small bit of the tension seemed to ease from the room as they laughed together. His shoulders visibly loosened and she felt herself relax the tiniest bit.

"Right. What you said. So let's just…take it day by day. We'll start easy today so that you're not so sore you can't walk and never want to come back and…you don't have to step on a scale til next week. How's that?"

Peeta nodded slowly, his eyebrows raising slightly. "That sounds….completely doable."

And so they got to work.

They did more stretching to make sure he was all loosened up, then Katniss eventually convinced him to take his 'before' pictures against the plain blue backdrop, gently instructing him to turn to the side, put his arms one way, pose this or that way. It was a mortifying experience, at least to her. The thought of someone taking pictures of her at her weakest and documenting them was something she hoped to never have done. Once they were finished, she led him back downstairs to the gym floor and past dozens of machines and weights. Glancing over at him, she saw that he was glancing around nervously, the tips of his ears all red. His cheeks were ruddy with color as well.

 _He must be embarrassed. Poor guy. He sounds like he has had a humiliating few weeks._

She started off by putting him on a treadmill at a brisk walk, half to warm him up and partly to get him to focus on something other than what everyone else in the room was doing. Not a soul was paying any attention to what Peeta was doing, but she knew by the downcast look of his eyes and the bright flush on his cheeks he wouldn't have believed her if she told him.

"Shoulders back. Try to breathe," she instructed. It was the same advice Gale had given her a thousand times while teaching her the ropes at Panem Fitness. She'd always been slim and athletic. However, the slimness was more from not enough to eat and the athletic tendencies came from trying to keep up with her father while he was alive. He lived for hiking in the woods, shooting bows, running on country roads, and just generally staying active. Her devotion to him and desire to keep up had driven her activity level since she was a child.

But she'd never tried to really bit _fit_ before it was a requirement of her livelihood. Starting work at Panem Fitness hadn't been easy as she'd had to learn all over again how to first be active and then how to instruct others to do it. At the end of her first week of teaching, she'd been so exhausted she'd slept through an entire weekend. Teaching yoga and Body Pump classes all day sounded like a breeze, but eight or nine hours of it had taken its toll on her body at first. Gale, being the pushy best friend he was, started her on rounds of endurance training to help her body get accustomed to her new career. Katniss knew all too well what it felt like to go into a workout full of hope and motivation and then have the body hit a wall where it refused to do more.

Peeta was beginning to sweat a little as she increased the incline and speed of the treadmill. He didn't look as uncomfortable and seemed to have settled into what they were doing.

"This will be our routine – we'll stretch, warm up with cardio, then switch it up and work on different things so you don't get bored."

"Bored?" he chuckled, breaking his focus.

"Well, like…your body responds better when you don't do the same thing every day. We'll switch it up. Work on weights, legs, then core building, endurance…"

"I'll take your word for it," he smirked, facing forward again. She shook her head and smiled at him before reaching over and switching the treadmill a little faster. "Five more minutes. Focus on your breathing, your posture, and make sweat your new friend."

He nodded and did as she instructed. Today's workout would be light to not burn him out. She would avoid that with him at all costs. Determination had set in, and she promised herself that she would help him reach his goal.

Once they'd done half an hour of cardio to warm him up, she moved him on to the weights. Her knowledge of weights were limited; she would have to make a mental note to ask Gale or Finnick for some pointers. But, she knew enough to get him started and take some notes on where his limits were and what he wanted to work on.

"You're like….really strong," she muttered at the end, looking over her notes. Her chicken scratch handwriting was difficult for even her to read, but the numbers were impressive. "Do you do a lot of lifting?"

He shrugged, his face turning slightly pink again. Handing him a towel, she watched as he bashfully wiped the sweat from his face and neck. He avoided her eyes. He did that a lot. She felt her brow furrow slightly.

"I uh…do a lot of the lifting, yes. Dad is getting up there and he's already had one hernia, not looking for him to have a second," he grinned. "Flour bags can be heavy."

"Wow. Well you can certainly lift."

Peeta swallowed, Katniss watching the lines of his neck. It was thick, but not _fat._ He had weight to lose, yes, but she could see as he moved (through the baggy t-shirt he'd worn) that Peeta _did_ have quite a bit of muscle. His arms weren't defined, but were thick and solid looking leading up to thick shoulders that were broad but somehow not overly so. What had really struck her about Peeta was the way his dark blue eyes seemed to reflect an array of emotions at any given moment. They flashed with a bit of mirth as he reached up and pinched his own side.

"Hmm, so you're saying that under my layer of chub there might be some muscle after all?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Hey, go easy on yourself. It takes a lot of work and dieting for muscles to show up clearly. It's not easy."

"Right," he nodded.

She motioned for him to stop. "I don't want you to be sore," she explained, handing him a bottle of water. He downed it eagerly, looking up at her as he sat on the weight bench panting slightly. His eyes were suddenly soft.

"I'm coming back tomorrow," he said softly, taking another sip. His gaze shifted around the room self-consciously.

Katniss looked over her shoulder at the rest of the gym – it was somewhat quiet, save for the blaring electro-annoying brand of music thudding through the main workout area.

"A lot of people who come here are so…"

"So…what?" he inquired.

"So…self-centered," she shrugged. "That….I shouldn't have said-"

"-No, what were you going to say?" he asked, screwing the top on his water bottle. Katniss leaned against the side of the bench, running her fingertip against the heavy weights.

"Well…this place can be scary, but…look around….no one is paying any attention to you. Will you….answer me something? Honestly?"

He nodded. "Seems that the theme of the day is Peeta laying it all out for the world to see," he said wryly, "What do you want to know?"

A tiny smile played on her lips. Cocking her head, she looked at him. "You're kinda funny. Sarcasm…"

"I speak it fluently. But that wasn't a question."

"Fine," she acquiesced, "On a scale of one to ten…how bad was today?"

Peeta's eyebrow rose as he looked up at her, then shifted his gaze to the rest of the gym. "It wasn't….as bad. I mean, parts of it were worse than I'd imagined, sure. Crane, getting weighed, just…coming to terms with why I'm here. I'm rambling…" he shook his head. A sweaty piece of hair fell into his eyes and he quickly brushed it away. The ends that had grown sweaty had started to curl, she noticed.

"You were….amazing. You'll be a great teacher to me, so you had no reason to be nervous. And…it feels like I have a little bit of hope for once. So that's nice."

His words surprised her. While she understood that she wasn't the most natural personal trainer on the face of the earth, Peeta had picked up on her uneasiness despite his own emotional dilemma and that struck a chord with her. He was clearly having one of the most miserable days of his life (or so he thought) and yet he'd managed to notice something about _her._ The weight of that didn't escape her as she led him to the locker room.

"Here's where we part. Same time tomorrow?"

Peeta nodded. "Yes. I promise," he gave her a crooked smile.

"Good. Now – rinse off, take some ibuprofen, and drink lots of water tonight. Take a hot shower before bed…it'll help with any soreness. When you get up in the morning, try to stretch. Two minutes," she added, "You can fit that in."

He gave her one final nod and he looked almost boyish as he listened to her instructions with wide, nearly owlish eyes.

"And….this will be hard work. Maybe….find another reason besides that…." She wanted to say _heinous bitch,_ but somehow caught herself. Any person who could judge someone based on their appearance had earned a much harsher title in her mind, but she had to remember this was her job. Crane was paying her for her work, not her thoughts on life.

"Girl," Peeta said slowly his voice almost sheepish. "Let's…forget I told you that. Can we pretend I said all the right reasons about why I wanted to lose weight in that room back there?"

"Sure," she agreed.

"Thank you Katniss," Peeta offered her one last smile and a tiny, bashful wave before pushing through the door to the locker room.

For some reason, she caught herself staring at the door he'd just gone through a second too long than was normal.

 _He smells like cinnamon when he sweats,_ she realized.


	8. Chapter 8

**WEEK 1**

She hadn't lied to him. At least there was that.

Peeta had woken up at the crack of dawn the next morning for work, sore from what felt like head to toe. He'd taken her advice and done the shower, stretching, and ibuprofen and was glad he had. He couldn't imagine what shape he'd be in had he skipped her advice.

Getting out of bed was the hardest part. In fact, it was damn near impossible. Normally he pulled himself out of bed at least ten minutes before his alarm (his body used to bakers' hours) and shuffled his way to his morning shower.

Currently, the most he could do was lean on his knees on the edge of the bed and scowl across the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.

 _Fuck_ , he realized. _I hurt._

And they hadn't even done that much, he recognized. He'd left the gym yesterday with a little swing in his step at having accomplished something so terrifying and surviving it. Hell, he'd been so pleased he'd even been able to step through the front door of the gym that the elation still hadn't worn off hours later. It was a high he would have normally celebrated with food, but….the excitement and drive to please his new coach won over and he'd overcome. The small battle over his stomach was enough to make him feel like he'd already won the war. He'd gone to bed hurting, but feeling accomplished.

Now, standing under the hot spray of the water, he just felt….tired.

And sore.

Can't forget sore.

And he still basically wanted a cupcake or two.

 _Gotta keep moving. I shouldn't be this tired. No, I'm not tired. This shower is refreshing and I'm not even hungry. Just eat some eggs for breakfast and try not to think about how good they would be topped with cheese. And maybe a side of bacon. Oooh, and hash browns with that awesome ketchup-y salsa stuff in the back of the fridge…damn it._

Suddenly yesterday's accomplishment had seemingly vanished into thin air. Opening his eyes, he stilled under the streams of water. Would the pride and accomplishment always wear off so quickly? Was one day even enough to be proud of? Surely. But still….he paused the motions of running the soap up and over his body, wrinkling his nose. Ulgh, every surface of his stomach and sides felt like jello. Reaching down, he grasped the fatty skin and heaved a sigh. _Make that soapy jello._ Suddenly, being in the shower naked with his own thoughts wasn't very refreshing.

He felt disgusted.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he toweled off, something he normally avoided at all cost. It wasn't usually worth the feeling of self-loathing that early in the morning, and it was usually torture enough to have to towel off all of his side rolls and stomach pooch. Despair set in quickly.

Would this be a daily struggle, he wondered? He'd felt amazing after his workout with Katniss. How had it worn off so quickly?

Kpkpkpkp

She focused on the mat in front of her, spraying the liquid on plastic surface in a halfhearted pump. _Tuition payment is coming up. Have to write Prim a check. Have to make sure said check doesn't bounce from here to Hong Kong…when did I cook that roast? Is eight days too long to eat meat after it's been cooked? It smelled a little funky last night, but I don't get paid for another four days…is that ramen still in the back of the cabinet? Its pork flavor. I hate that one…_

"Earth to Katniss…"

Gale's voice broke her out of her thoughts, causing her to snap her head up.

"What?" she asked a little too sharply.

He barely noticed. He was used to the tone of her voice after so many years of friendship. "You've been cleaning that same spot for ten minutes."

Glancing down, she stopped the circular motion and sat back on her knees.

"Oh."

"Whatcha thinkin bout?"

"Food. Bills," she answered honestly.

The look in his eye was one of understanding, and he would never understand how much she appreciated never seeing so much as a flicker of judgement reflected in his sea colored eyes. Gale was her friend, in good times and bad. And he had certainly seen his share of bad times. She didn't feel shame in front of Gale. They understood each other.

"Get paid Friday."

Her non-committal grunt answered his thoughts.

"You need me to float you some?"

Katniss shook her head. "No, we'll make it."

Gale flopped unceremoniously down on the mat with her, not even bothering to look busy.

"Still though," he shrugged casually. He and Katniss both knew that making a big deal of being short money was not their style, nor was it their favorite topic. They both knew the other was good for a loan if someone was in a tight spot. True to form, he didn't press it. A moment of relief flickered through her gut as he spread out on the mat in front of her.

"Crane here yet?" she asked knowingly, already sensing the answer. There was no way the star employee would be lounging around like that if their boss was in the building.

"No," he grinned, lounging back as if he were on the beach.

She chuckled. Gale could always make her laugh. Especially when times were tough. They'd grown up together, constantly covering each other's asses in everything from grocery bills to permission slips. She'd learned to forge Hazel's signature by the time she was fourteen. Gale had learned to fix the hot water heater in their old house the second day they'd moved in. It was a give and take friendship and it had served them both well over the years.

"Figured. I've never seen you here not acting busy."

He only snorted.

"Suck up."

Gale ignored her comment. "Crane's office door was open when I was leaving yesterday. Said your new client left smiling. What's with that?" he waggled his eyebrows at her, clearly hoping to get a rise.

Her stomach flopped. In the shit show that had been the last twenty four hours, she'd almost forgotten about him.

"Oh…that."

"Yes, _that._ He really gave you a guy to train? I thought he'd change his mind."

"Girls can train just as hard as guys," she wrinkled her nose.

Gale held up his hands in mock defense. "Never said they couldn't! Just surprised is all. Well, you must have not sucked, that's all I'm sayin'."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for your vote of confidence, ass," she stood, tossing the stinky towel in the nearby bin of dirty ones. Hands on her hips, she shrugged. "I think Crane only gave him to me because I was standing there. Or he wants to see me fail."

"So don't."

It was always so easy with Gale. He never accepted whiners. Gale was black and white.

"I _don't plan to,"_ she frowned. "He's a nice guy. I think he just needs some help."

Gale raised a dark eyebrow. "And?"

"And…." Katniss trailed off, thinking of Peeta's mortified blush and shy gaze. "And I was nice to him so he'll come back today, that's what."

"Well that's a relief," he deadpanned quickly, his face straight but his eyes dancing.

She pelted the bottle of cleaner at him, aiming straight for his nuts. His blocked it, just barely.

"Hey!" he guffawed out, "That was close!"

"Exactly," she growled, turning on her heel. It was going to be a long day.

Kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

The day passed slowly. Two yoga classes and a Body Pump session kept her busy enough, but as the afternoon sun shone through the windows of the gym, she found herself yearning to be off work and free to enjoy the pretty spring day. Prim would be in class that night, but she was hoping to get a start on their garden. The backyard of their rented old house wasn't fancy – a lumpy lawn that usually needed mowing, surrounded by a decaying picket fence. The only adornment was the rickety lawn chair where Haymitch would sometimes sit and have his evening smoke, joined by the coffee can full of cigarette butts beside it. Katniss would have normally thrown a fit at him for smoking so close to the house for fear he'd pass out and drop a lit cigarette on the ground and start a fire, but she'd kept her mouth shut and so far so good. The first summer they'd lived there, he had been in a good enough mood to let her borrow a small rototiller from the city landscaping crew and make a decent sized garden plot. Between Prim's babysitting money and what Katniss could scrape together, they'd had enough to go to the greenhouse and get started on their garden. The extra food had saved them more than once, so she was determined to keep that going.

But the day wasn't over yet. Shuffling to her board of assignments for the day, her eyebrows lifted from their furrowed state.

 _Katniss – 1 on 1 with Peeta Mellark_

She'd almost forgotten. Checking her watch, she frowned again when she realized it was time for him to be there and there was no one in sight. It was early enough in the day that the evening, after work crowd was still an hour or so away and all that was left were retirees and people who likely worked night shifts and wanted to grab a workout before work. Wandering up to the front of the gym, she hovered close enough to see the front door but stayed far enough away so she wouldn't have to actually _talk_ to the vapid front desk girls.

Crane's door was open, she realized. What would he say if she's already lost her client on day two? She needed to look busy. Grabbing a dreaded spray bottle and a fresh towel, she intended to do just that. The door chime buzzing brightly made her look up.

Peeta hurried through the doors, a bag slung over his shoulder. His cheeks were red and his eyes were bright and slightly frantic. They darted around the front lobby for a moment; nervous, full of trepidation, then, he saw her.

She smiled, jumping slightly at his next outburst.

"I'm sorry!" he fumbled, nearly dropping the bag as he made his way over to her. She put on her best smile and tossed the cleaning materials aside. Relief shot through her at the sight of him. She would at least make it one more day at Panem Fitness if Peeta had returned.

 _Take that, Crane. Miserable SOB…_

"What for?"

He recovered with a smile, only to let it falter at her question. "For…being late," he stammered, nearly dropping his bag again. He'd brought the smell of the fresh spring air with him, but it was mixed with something else. The annoying front door chimed behind him but she barely noticed. The inviting smell wafted into her nose and chest and settled within her like only something familiar could. It was soothing.

 _Bread,_ she realized. _He smells like fresh baked bread._

"I hate being late, it's just…rude," he explained, the faint blush returning to his cheeks.

She hoped he didn't notice her extra inhale as she plastered her best smile on her face and tilted her head. Of course he would smell like bread – he'd told her only yesterday his family owned a bakery.

"You came back."

The smile faltered again, and she cringed at the tone of surprise in her voice. His lips opened and closed, his warm eyes going dull.

"I….yeah."

 _Fuck, I am so awkward. I am just awkward, awkward…fuck…_ she thought.

"No, no…I'm…I'm not surprised you're back because…shit, oh! Sorry…I shouldn't have said that, I….I am just not the best trainer. Remember yesterday how I told you that you were my first one on one client?" she cringed, "Well, I'm surprised my….awkwardness and just…personality didn't scare you off."

The hurt look in his eyes instantly faded, replaced instead with almost instant forgiveness.

"Oh, well…no, of course not. I said I would be back, so…here I am. You didn't do too much damage," he offered shyly, scratching the back of his head. "How has your day been?"

She stopped, surprise registering on her face.

"My day?"

He nodded. "Going okay so far?"

He looked….interested. She closed her mouth, then opened it again as she tried to find words. A halfhearted smile was all she could manage.

"Fine….Well, let's get started."

Kpkpkpkpkpkp

True to her word, Katniss didn't make him step on a scale or take more humiliating pictures.

"We save that for Sundays," she promised him with a tiny smile as she increased his treadmill speed. They'd returned to the small room off to the side again to start, doing stretches as the afternoon sunlight shone through the windows. It hadn't been sunny the day before, and somehow the bright light made the place less daunting. Between the cheery lighting and Katniss' tank top, this was shaping up to be an alright afternoon. He almost hadn't minded his body screaming at him for half an hour as she helped him bend and stretch and breathe through the pain.

"Let's just adjust this…"

Peeta averted his eyes as she leaned over him and adjusted the incline. Her breast brushed against his elbow and he bit his lip to try to keep from blushing. It was rude and crude of him to ogle her in her work uniform – a quick glance around the room confirmed that Katniss wasn't decked out in the form fitting uniform of Panem Fitness on her own volition. While the styles varied, every employee, male and female appear to have to don the tight fitting, spandex-y looking uniform of the business.

However, she seemed to manage to make it look the best.

 _Don't be that guy,_ he chided himself. _Guys probably gawk her all day in that thing. How could they not? She's flawless. Perfect skin, fit, chocolate hair, and those eyes….how is it fair that some people are born so utterly gorgeous? That should be illegal. Or they should at least have to pass some sort of niceness test. Yeah, that's it. If you're nice, you get to be pretty. If you have a heart of gold, you get to look like you belong on a runway or something. That would be nice…_

His thoughts drifted as he walked, the treadmill rumbling as it changed inclines and speeds. A flittering feeling of shame wove through him as he realized he was actually getting tired and slightly out of breath. They'd barely done more than stretch and walk! Refusing to let himself be humiliated, he dug deeper and kept walking. What else could he do? It would be nothing short of excruciatingly humiliating to have to stop now or tell her he was tired.

Katniss watched his gait, marking his session down on her clip board. She was monitoring his heart rate and how stressed his body appeared to be, taking careful notes. He was starting to sweat, but that was normal. He also looked slightly uncomfortable as the treadmill continued to fluctuate inclines and speeds every few minutes, but it wasn't time to quit just yet.

 _Don't give up,_ she silently chanted, chewing the eraser on her pencil. This might be easier if they talked, she realized. Cringe. She'd never been good at making conversation with people she'd just met. Prim and Gale were used to her biting remarks and sarcasm followed by silence; Peeta wouldn't know how to handle her. So far his personality seemed to be quite Brady-ish and that was never good for Katniss.

"So….did you work today?" she finally asked, trying not to sound forced.

Peeta nodded, flashing a shy grin. "I did."

"That would explain the cinnamon," she muttered, more under her breath than aloud.

"What?"

"Oh," it was her turn to look embarrassed. "I said…that explains the cinnamon smell."

"Oh, sorry," he said slowly, his cheeks turning that ruddy color again. She immediately felt like an ass again. That was twice in one session her lack of social skills and conversation had somewhat insulted Peeta, who was currently looking like he wanted to collapse into himself and disappear.

 _Crap._

"No, it…smells… _nice_ ," she offered awkwardly. "I mean, at least you get to hang out in a bakery all day and not a sweaty gym."

He nodded good naturedly, the expression on his face replaced with relief. "It's not bad. I mean, I do like working there. My dad does most of the baking, like, cakes and stuff. I decorate them, I uh…always kinda been artsy, erm….and then I bake our famous sourdough loaf. Yeah, it's not bad. I don't mind it most days I guess," he grinned.

It was clear he was passionate about baking, she realized.

"How could you not? Surrounded by what I can only imagine to be food heaven. So cakes and bread. What other sort of things do you make there?"

"You've never been?" He asked, his tone surprised. She looked up in surprise to find his eyes bright as he walked, darting between watching his steps and her face. He looked genuinely shocked she'd never been.

"Uh…no?"

"Mellark & Sons Bakery? Wow. I thought everyone in town had been at least once. We're kinda known for our sourdough loaf. And the five herb loaf, oh, and cinnamon rolls. I was uh…mixing dough for that before I came. Hence the erm…cinnamon," he blushed again. "You've really never been in?"

She shrugged, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. How could she explain to him that visiting trendy bakeries wasn't high on her list? She didn't really want to divulge the fact that she and Prim had to shop at the bargain grocery store and had for years. It was trendy to do it now, but theirs was more of a necessity. She was used to bread that tasted like cardboard and was likely a few days from the expiration date. The idea of spending her hard earned money on frivolous things like decorated cakes and fancy loaves of herb bread was foreign a foreign concept. Her stomach gave an interested gurgle at the thought of everything Peeta had just described.

"No, I haven't. But maybe I will."

Peeta smirked as he walked, glancing over at her. He seemed to have been distracted from his workout by talking to her, so she kept it up. She found he was pleasantly chatty once she got him rolling. He was a constant stream of conversation and questions, mostly about her, which she craftily diverted each time with minimal information. Her life was nothing she wanted to really talk about or dwell on these days. Nothing brought the mood down like hearing about her crappy rented house or stacks of bills to pay. Instead, she watched him walk and asked him about his work at the bakery, which she found he was more than happy to discuss. All the while she noted the way his blond hair seemed to curl on the ends when he sweat and how the sky blue color of his eyes was both warm yet striking at the same time.

"We do small time wedding cakes, and now we do coffee and all of that. In the summer, we make awesome fruit tartes and whoopie pies."

"What's a whoopie pie?"

He laughed. "Basically two devil's food fudge cookies with this stuff we called fluff in the middle. It's heavy whipping cream that's been mixed and beaten and had confectioners' sugar added to it until it's light and fluffy, then frozen. You can eat like four of them in one sitting. Well…maybe not everyone," he admitted, "I mean, you get why I'm fat now, right?" he chuckled.

Katniss shook her head. "You're not…don't say that," she snapped, her voice sharper than she'd intended.

Peeta sobered almost instantly. Reaching over, she switched off the machine and let him slow into an eventual stop. "What? I mean…you see me, right?"

The gym bustled around them, but that was all forgotten as she stood in front of the treadmill and looked at him. The entire time he'd been talking, she hadn't once looked at his physical form. His stories about baking and hearing him talk about the bakery had drawn her in. His voice had been deep and soft as he'd described his work that was about a hundred times more interesting than hearing about some yuppie office job or worse, what all the guys spoke of at work – body building and protein shakes. A person could only take so much of that before getting completely sick of it. Peeta was interesting to talk to. And kind. And while she didn't want to talk about herself, she was flattered he'd asked and sounded genuinely interested. She couldn't remember the last time anyone but Gale or Prim had asked her about her day.

"If you're going to do this, you can't talk about yourself like that," she muttered, motioning to the mats again. The towel she'd been holding was thrust into his hands, and he gingerly wiped his brow. Peeta was a bit confused – he'd only told the truth. It was a truth he'd heard many times: he was fat. He was fat and that was clear as day. Why had that upset her?

The mood between them had shifted. His stupid mouth was of course to blame. Why couldn't he do anything right? Disappointment surged through him as he watched her face turn dark as she began stretching. He followed suit, the air between them somehow cold and still despite the muggy gym. They'd been talking and laughing as he walked, the conversation easy between them. How he'd managed to talk to a girl so beautiful for so long was still beyond his grasp, but Katniss was easy to talk to. Until he'd opened his stupid mouth with that self-deprecating comment. Usually when he said things like that people just agreed because it was a fact – he was out of shape and heavy. No one denied it, himself included. Why had she reacted like that?

The hopeless feeling he was used to returned, but this time it was for a completely different reason.


	9. Chapter 9

**Week 2**

* * *

Katniss checked the number a second time, then a third. Then a fourth.

That _couldn'_ t be right.

Her stomach sank slightly and she fought to keep her expression neutral.

It was the start of week two for Peeta and she'd gotten him back on the scale and even coaxed him into taking another set of pictures against the blue backdrop. He'd blushed less and hadn't turned that funny shade of pink, but she could tell it was no easier than it had been the week before. He'd been to see her three times in a week and while she wasn't expecting a miracle, she absolutely dreading what she had to tell him.

Peeta hadn't lost a pound.

He'd _gained_ one.

"Well, uh….we're up a p-pound," she stammered, her awkward inflection not lost on him.

Cue the pink, ruddy blush, and she officially felt like shit. _Shit._ The silence between them seemed to stretch on forever, her mood sinking like a stone.

"I….I haven't lost anything?"

His tone was one that was carefully guarded. She could tell he was discouraged – who wouldn't be? Katniss gently ushered him off the scale and out the door. She'd never get him back into the weigh-in room at this point.

"No, but there are reasons for that."

Peeta hung his head, but quickly lifted it up to listen to what she had to say. He seemed to perk up only slightly at her explanations, everything from water weight to his body building up muscle. Silence followed, thus making her feel even more like shit. It seemed to be a theme. Panic and training kicked in and she heard herself rattling off data and information around the first few weeks of a fitness plan and what could explain his gain. It might not be in his control, she told herself. Of course he could be going home every night and binge eating nothing but garbage – she wasn't there with him, but something in the way his eyes were utterly deflated of all hope told her what she'd needed to know – Peeta had truly _tried_ that week and his results were a genuine shock. In her heart, she knew he wouldn't have willingly stepped onto that terrifying metal scale if he'd had something to hide.

The world 'defeat' rattled around in her head until she had to concentrate to speak.

She'd wanted to badly for him to have a tiny victory on that scale.

"I think I know what we'll focus on this week," she started, trying to make her voice sound bright. "Let's focus on weights and eating."

Peeta looked up at her, his eyes still a stormy blue. He was disappointed. Not that he shouldn't be – seven days was a long time to work towards a goal to only go backwards. The need to tread carefully was high.

Stopping, she put her hand on his arm and halted as soon as they got to the entrance of the weight room.

"I know…this is hard. And it's…even harder to go backwards," she offered lamely, finally getting the courage to speak. "But…we'll keep at this. I'll help you, just…don't get discouraged and quit…okay?"

His eyebrows rose slightly, his lips parting. She watched his mouth carefully, raising her eyes back up to meet his soft blue ones. He watched her for a moment before nodding dumbly and glancing down at her hand on his arm. Pulling it back, she offered him a crooked smile that she hoped looked comforting.

When he spoke next, he floored her.

"I'm not going to give up, Katniss," his voice was low and rough. The emotion of the moment in the weigh-in room had clearly stuck with him, but there was a thin, underlying sound of determination there that made her take notice. The stormy look in his eye had faded into something else, something softer yet still somehow just as hard.

 _He really does have pretty eyes._

She could only nod.

"Now…what do I need to do?"

 **Kpkpkpkpkp**

He sort of regretted asking when she told him.

"We're going to talk to Annie, our registered dietician. She's going to talk to you about your diet," her voice was full of a new determination as she marched forward.

"Diet?" he muttered quietly to himself. The reality of his situation was once again kicking him in the gut.

The scale incident had been horrible, there was no denying that. But sitting down with a dietician was going to be awful, and there was _absolutely_ no denying that either. Peeta knew that his sedentary lifestyle mixed with his work environment and eating habits had gotten him to where he was. That, and, he freaking _loved_ food.

He knew explaining that to a person whose job it was to study healthy food and have eating right down to a science was going to be difficult. It wouldn't do him any good to worry, he supposed, because his body didn't hide the fact that he loved food and ate the way he did. Now, it was time to face the music.

They stayed on the second floor as Katniss led him over to an area of tiny offices. Rapping gently on the door, she pushed it open and smiled at the girl sitting behind the desk.

"Annie? This is Peeta. Can you page me when you're all done here?"

The tall, red haired girl offered them both a warm smile and stood to shake his hand. "Of course I can. Thanks Katniss."

Katniss handed his file to Annie and gave him a light hearted smack on the shoulder. "I can help you a lot, but what Annie can teach you will be invaluable. I'd take notes," she offered before backing out the door. Peeta nodded shyly, feeling his blush return at the contact. It never ceased to amaze him how one little touch from his trainer had his head spinning slightly.

"My name is Annie," she greeted kindly, gesturing for him to sit down. "So you're Katniss' client? The one who owns the bakery?"

"Well, with my family, yes," he chuckled. "Sooo…that kinda explains why I'm here."

She laughed and he realized he already felt somewhat at ease with Annie. Her office was brightly decorated with flowers and motivational posters that were borderline cheesy but nice all the same. A certificate boasting that she was a registered dietician hung on the wall behind her in a place of honor, separate from the other pictures of friends and family.

"That's my first question actually! What brings you here? It looks like this is…" she shuffled through the papers Katniss had handed her, "Week two?"

"Yes. I'm uh…up a pound."

"There can be a lot of reasons for that," she offered sympathetically. "I hope you're not beating yourself up about that, are you?"

Annie was easy to talk to and Peeta was once again discovering he shouldn't be as apprehensive when it came to trying new things. She was kind and seemed to understand where he was coming from as he talked about his passion for food, his work, his eating habits, and the way his body had changed over the years. She confirmed his medical history before talking about his family members and their weight. They discussed what he normally consumed in a day and the foods he gravitated towards and craved, Peeta detailing all the slightly embarrassing choices he'd made when it came to what he'd put into his body. It wasn't easy, but he felt so fed up that he didn't see any other way out of it. He clearly needed help.

"You've told me a lot about what your habits are. That can't be easy to talk about," she said gently, putting her pen down.

He licked his lips and twisted his hands in front of him. "It's…not. But I know I can't keep up with this. And it's not like my family can help me. They're as bad as I am."

"Sometimes the people closest to us enable us without even realizing it. Sometimes they blame it on habit, or tradition, or even love. Food is a powerful thing for people Peeta, you aren't alone in that. Sometimes you eat alone, sometimes you eat with others. If your family is like this, I'll be honest – this will be a really tough road without their support or understanding."

His mother's face came to the front of his mind. A stab of insecurity shot through him at the thought. What would she say about all of this? He hadn't really talked about the last week with his family because he knew full well what to expect if he had – some jokes, some confusion, and when it came to his mother? There would be endless fat jokes, countless jibes and digs at him, and mockery at every turn. And if he failed at this? He didn't want to show his face again. She was very right though. His family ate and ate frequently. Food was the center of their social calendar and avoiding that would be hellish at best. He wasn't sure he had the willpower to turn down his father's cheesecake or his mother's lasagna. Peeta felt his shoulder droop at the thought of missing out on all of that good food that came with every family event.

"Will you family give you that?"

"I uh…I'm not sure I can count on all of them for understanding. Support I can do without, but…"

Annie shook her head. "You _need_ support. But if your family and friends won't give it to you, then that's what I'm here for. My patients contact me all the time to talk about food choices and get backing when they need it most. A lot of this will be learned behavior and it's not easy, but it's possible. My hope for today is to give you a realistic idea of what this will be like but also to let you know that it's entirely possible."

He nodded. "I appreciate that. No, I uh…I know this will be tough. It already is."

She leaned back in her desk chair and offered him a sincere smile, her green eyes sparkling. "You seem like you're really ready to commit."

"I am," he nodded, his voice firm. None of the things he wanted would ever be achieved if he didn't get his act together. The life he wanted – the life he'd put on _hold_ flashed before his eyes. No – he wouldn't be giving up on this, no matter what his mother or family said. He had wanted this enough to get himself to that point and there was no turning back.

"You can do this, Peeta, I have faith in you," she said. Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded forced and trite, but Annie had somehow made it heartfelt and sincere. Her happy smile from across the desk made him feel like anything was possible and it was suddenly clear why Katniss had wanted him to talk to her. "If I can do it, anyone can!" she gestured to a photo on her desk that his eyes had skimmed right on over earlier.

Leaning, he focused on it, his eyebrows shooting up.

It was a picture frame with two pictures in it – one, a girl who was clearly several hundred pounds overweight, and the other with Annie in a sleeveless, bright green dress. While he'd originally written it off as photos of two different people, they clearly were not.

"That's _you."_

"It's me," she said softly, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"That's….wow," he chuckled. "That's fantastic. How did you…?"

She grinned, nodding good naturedly. It was a question she was clearly used to.

"I started slow. Just cutting out a few foods – bread, sodas, candy. Then I stepped it up and cut out processed foods and started exercising. Nothing fancy, just walking and swimming. Before I knew it….I was less than half of my original size. It wasn't fast and it wasn't easy, but…..worth it," she said, another face-splitting smile appearing. He grinned back at her.

"I went back to school to become a dietician and…just had my last skin surgery last year."

"You lost so much you had to have skin removed?"

She nodded. "You probably wouldn't, so don't worry too much. You made the choice to change in time, but I….didn't. I'd been so unhappy for years, so uncomfortable. I don't know what made me wait."

"Same here," he admitted, thinking back to that day in the bakery that had driven him to that point. He hadn't seen Glimmer since, but the rejections still stung as if it had been yesterday. He wasn't sure if the sting from that conversation with Glimmer would ever really fade. Peeta looked at the photo again. The girl on the left was large, but there was also a sadness and sense of discomfort in her skin that Peeta could easily identify. The girl on the left was practically radiating happiness. It was such a beautiful picture that he wanted to reach out and touch it to try to capture some of the joy emanating from it. He _wanted_ that feeling. He _wanted_ to feel change.

He wanted this and he would not give up.

 **Kpkpkpkp**

The high from Annie's photograph stayed with him for several days. Hope was once again a feeling he felt he could grasp, and it continued with him into the week for his next session with Katniss. They'd done some dreaded cardio to start the session, but she's moved him to the weight room to see what he could do when she'd grabbed his arm and said in amazement, "You're _strong_."

The compliment had made him almost drop whatever dumbbell he was holding as her firm grip on his arm sent him stammering, but he'd finally managed to thank her for the compliment. She's looked embarrassed after that, quietly instructing him through the rest of their weight lifting session.

"I'm not as good with the weights, I don't do these as much as I should," she admitted, taking the weight from Peeta and placing it back into its spot on the rack.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's not really my thing. I had to ask Gale for help. He uh, works here," she added, worrying he would think she didn't know what she was talking about.

Peeta paused a moment, a strange look flitting across his face. "Oh, no, that's fine. We all have what we're good at. So what is?"

"What's what?"

"What's your 'thing'?"

She thought a moment, her silvery eyes pensive. "I like to run when I'm pissed, or in a bad mood or whatever. I don't do it for exercise – _shit!-_ I shouldn't admit that," she giggled, but shrugged. "But the only time I really run is for that and not really because I should."

"I can understand that. When I've had a bad day I just…knead the bread like a really mean it, ya know?" he joked. "Punch the crap out of it and all that."

"Do you really?"

"No," he chuckled dryly, "We use mixers. But I guess I could try it."

She burst out laughing, giving him a playful shove. "You seriously had me picturing you in a bakery, punching the shit out of some bread dough. Oh crap, I just said 'shit' again. I have uh…potty mouth. It got so bad when my sister was little she made me put a dollar in a swear jar," she admitted, wrinkling her nose.

"It's alright. She's younger, I take it?"

"Yeah, so I should technically know better, but…" she winced and shrugged her shoulders again. "Want to try a medicine ball?"

"What's that? Does it hurt?"

She grinned. "Sort of. But it's heavy and you're built for it, so I think you'll like it."

After cleaning up the weight area they'd used, she led him over to the mats and selected a large, heavy ball and showed him a few exercises to do with it.

"Would it help if I did a few reps with you?"

"Trainers do that?"

"Yes," she laughed, plopping unceremoniously onto the matt. "Here. I'll toss it to you, you catch like this," she demonstrated, "Go back, and use the weight to kinda catapult yourself back up. Toss it…there," she laughed nearly missing his toss.

They did a few reps of that until Peeta felt like he was going to vomit. It wasn't as horrid as it looked – it did hurt, but the burn in his core was one he found he sort of liked. He sat on the matt, wiping his forehead with a towel and panting. The way Katniss had grunted before hurling the ball at him had been weirdly cute, he realized with a little grin.

"That will hurt tomorrow," she chuckled. "But you're good at it. We did three sets. Grab some water and we'll do a different exercise with it."

Hauling himself up, he found his water bottle and guzzled half of it as Katniss walked over to the rack for an even heavier ball. He was about to groan in protest when another trainer he recognized walked around the corner. His rippling muscles were showcased in the typical Panem Fitness attire and his pale blond, spiky hair was perfectly coifed. He made a beeline for Katniss, strutting jerkily over to her. Peeta watched, not even sure why he automatically thought the guy a jerk, but it was just something in the self-assured confidence he gave off. Something in the way he walked and moved was just…well, utterly douche-like if he was being completely honest with himself. The blond guy made a comment to Katniss, briefly brushing shoulders with her as he leaned down to tell her something. Peeta's stomach lurched slightly as Katniss looked up at her coworker before uttering something he couldn't hear. Whatever it was sent the blond guy on his way, laughing loudly as he continued with his day.

Peeta looked at his water bottle, studying it as he waited for her to return. She hadn't said anything about him, had she? Something mocking, something that had sent her coworker into a fit of laughter? No, he realized, she wouldn't do that. It was stupid of him to even worry about that. He hadn't known Katniss long, but already knew she had more character than that.

The look on her face when she turned around was stormy. She stalked back to their place on the mat and let the medicine ball drop to the floor with a loud _slam._

"You okay?"

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, just….never date your coworker."

* * *

 **New Year, new chapter!**

 **Happy 2018 everyone! I hope this update finds you all well and ready to face the year. This felt like a fitting fic to update on New Year's Day, doesn't it? I am all moved into my new home and all set up in my office (yay!) so I hope to get some writing done here while the weather is so icky.**

 **Thank you for reading! I am behind on my review replies, but please know that I read and value every one! I enjoy hearing your thoughts on this story.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 - Week 2**

* * *

She hated him.

She hated every fiber of his being.

The fact that she'd caved that one lonely night weeks ago and actually stooped low enough to have dinner with him still ate at her. Judging a person's character had never been difficult for her. In fact, she prided herself on her ability to shut up, hang back, and assess people before they usually even knew she was paying attention. It had saved her many times.

So the fact that Cato had slipped by her radar made her angrier than she cared to admit. She felt like she'd let herself down.

Scowling at him as he walked off, she pictured shooting the back of his head with something sharp and pointy. No, that was mean…maybe not to kill, just to… _maim._ Turning her thoughts back to Peeta, she felt her scowl lighten slightly. He was sitting on the mat, clutching his water bottle and the look on his face told her he'd observed her hostile encounter. His blue eyes were hard again as they followed Cato out of the room.

 _Don't pay any attention to him Peeta. He doesn't matter,_ she silently pleaded.

It didn't take a mind reader to know that her client was silently comparing himself to the tightly clad, muscled men that frequented Panem Fitness. It also didn't take a mind reader to tell that it was hard on him.

Katniss made her way back to the mat and let the medicine ball slam onto the floor harder than she'd intended. Peeta's voice cut through her cloud of irritated mortification.

"You okay?"

She couldn't help but snort and open her big mouth. "Yeah, just….never date your coworker."

Peeta's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't look surprised….just…interested. "You uh…dated him?"

She shook her head and sat down on the mat. "We should stretch."

She avoided his question and shouldn't have been surprised when he didn't press the issue. Instead, she led Peeta through some yoga-like stretches to help relax his core as her thoughts drifted. As a woman, she'd been hit on numerous times, most of it uninvited. It came with the territory of being of the female sex and it sucked when guys thought she was inviting it by just being nice, smiling, or even just wearing her tight work uniform. It sickened her when a man would look at her and their expression would change as they thought of whatever silver tongued phrase they thought might get her attention and into her pants.

She could always tell, too. Their eyes would shift, sometimes drifting over her body, and they would get a thoughtful look and maybe even smile coyly. Then it would come. The compliment, the invite, the attempt at persuasion.

And that night, she'd been lonely and hungry and she'd let Cato take her out. He'd maybe sensed her weakness and preyed on it. In her mind she deserved to feel as stupid as she felt. Now she had to deal with him every day they appeared on the schedule together and it wasn't getting any easier. His comments had been friendly and playfully chiding at first as to why she hadn't agreed to a second date. Then they'd gotten demanding, indignant, and overtly sexual.

Gale had offered to step in once after witnessing the tail end of it. She'd defiantly turned her best friend down.

" _Normally I'm okay with you helping me clean up my messes Gale, but the day I need your help to deck that asshat in the face is the day the sun sets in the east."_

She could handle herself – her father had taught her how. Cato wasn't enough to make her afraid, just…simply aggravated.

Peeta was quiet as they started a new set with the heavier ball, taking turns twisting to the side and passing it back and forth. His wide shoulders brushed with the back of hers several times, and she felt him lean forward to avoid touching her.

 _That's sweet,_ she thought. The fact that she made Peeta a little nervous didn't escape her.

Her eyes drifted down over the steel railing of the balcony overlooking the main gym. Cato was down there, flexing in front of a mirror and taking selfies. She watched until her rage and annoyance bubbled up inside of her and she couldn't take it.

Stopping the exercise, she turned to face Peeta. He'd been quiet since her comment, somehow sensing that now wasn't the time to ask for more details. Of course he wanted to know more about how Katniss had dated that guy, but he had the sense not to push it. It was like asking his brother's wife, Delly, what was wrong when she was upset. She would hide her tears of frustration and wave you off until it all came bursting out in a loud, wailing mess of tears and flailing hands. Then she'd yell about her makeup being ruined for the rest of the day. No, he'd certainly learned to keep his mouth shut when a woman didn't want to talk about it.

Katniss sighed heavily, her eyes unfocused. "It was just once."

He raised his eyebrows. "Once?"

She toyed with the end of her braid that he loved. While most girls opted for a messy bun or a ponytail at the gym, Katniss always had her hair woven into an intricate yet somehow sloppy looking braid with a few tendrils of her chocolate hair dripping out. They would curl slightly when she sweat. Peeta swallowed hard.

"Yeah, he….asked me out and like a dumbass I agreed. I mean…I'll give anyone a shot once, you know?"

Oh.

"Um…"

Waving her hands, she dropped her braid and sighed again. "I…this is so inappropriate for me to be bitching to you- _sorry, griping_ to you about. I'm about as unprofessional as they get, aren't I?" she did that laugh that was somehow throaty and adorable at the same time and he offered her a crooked smile.

"I don't care. Delly says I'm a good listener."

She looked interested.

"Delly is my sister in law. She uh, comes and helps at the bakery when we have a big order, a wedding cake or something. She talks a lot," he chuckled. "And I guess I have to listen."

Katniss grinned. "Ah. Well, she's right, you are a good listener. Listening to your trainer ramble unprofessionally about her personal life and questionable life choices."

"Questionable?"

"Yeah that guys a dumbass," she stated matter of factly. The snort she added was enough to get him.

Peeta couldn't help but burst out laughing. "What makes you say that?"

Katniss led him down the steps to a treadmill, motioning for him to get on and walk for his cool down. He would never admit it, but their cool downs were his least favorite part of the day. It signified the end of their time together.

"I just….I shouldn't have said yes to him. But I figured…it was one dinner, one time…what could it hurt?" her voice dropped slightly as she picked at her cuticle. "I'm not so good and like…high and mighty that I'm too good to go out with him. I knew him from work or whatever," she mumbled. "I'm nothing special. I didn't have a reason not to other than I didn't want to. But what could I say?"

"That seems like a pretty good reason to me," he offered.

She didn't reply. She just chewed her lip and stared at the numbers on the treadmill.

Peeta watched her face turn slightly dark again as he walked. He swallowed hard. He'd had very few candid, revealing conversations like this with girls and he knew he needed to tread lightly. But…it was too much to hold his tongue hearing the way she said, _'I'm nothing special.'_ He had to speak his mind. _Just pretend its Delly. She always says you give good advice. And you can talk to her. Just pretend it's her._

He cleared his throat and had to look away as he walked. He couldn't look at her and say it. "There's nothing wrong with having standards."

"Yeah, like being picky."

"Maybe, but that's not the word I'd use. _'Picky'_ makes it sound like you're just doing yourself a favor, but if you look at it as like…having high standards, that's…that's more to do with your character. And what you deserve. That's not….that's not bad to have high standards."

Her expression lightened as she looked up at him. "I've never thought about it that way."

"Well…you should. If he doesn't live up to the person you think you should be dating then…then that's his tough lukk. I don't think there's anything wrong with a girl being selective. Hell, it would make the guy she does end up with feel pretty neat, right? That he made the cut?" he chuckled. She smiled, doing that lip chewing thing again.

"I guess you're right…I just feel crappy though. He just keeps asking and I'm _very_ honest that there will not, now or ever…be a second date. Once was quite enough," she stated sourly.

"Don't. Don't…feel like that. You said no, he should…take that. Accept it. Any…decent guy would accept that."

"Yeah, well…the fact that he doesn't speaks volumes about him, doesn't it?"

Peeta was careful with his response. "I think so, anyway."

So Katniss had clearly told him she wasn't interested and he kept asking? The guy was an even bigger tool than he'd thought. His thoughts went back to Glimmer and the way she'd shot him down when he'd asked her for a date. It wouldn't have even dawned on him to actually _pressure_ Glimmer a second time after being shot down once. Granted, he was probabally not dealing with the same level of self-esteem that guy was. Peeta had seen him numerous times. Strutting around like he was doing the world a favor by getting out of bed. By breathing. This Cato guy was the type who Peeta had silently envied for years from afar but now suddenly made his blood absolutely _boil._

 _If I had a body like that, I would be so happy. Why does he have to ruin it by being such a dick? If you looked like that, shouldn't you be in a good mood? I don't get people sometimes,_ he thought.

They were quiet as he finished his cool down. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, at least not to him. Katniss was clearly mulling things over in her head as he finished and dutifully wiped down the machine as she'd instructed. He was so busy with the task and thinking about Cato that he almost missed her next question.

"What about you then? Are you…pretty selective?"

He choked on his water. "What do you mean?"

She noted the way his blue eyes widened and she panicked that she'd crossed her another boundary with her shy, kind, client.

"Oh, uh…nevermind."

He ignored her. His heart was racing but he was too intrigued to be sensible and shut up. "You mean with like…girls? Erm, women?"

She nodded casually. "Maybe I need advice on it." Her tone was playful, but her body language suggested otherwise. She walked him to the front with her arms crossed in front of her, he noticed. She looked like she wanted to collapse in on herself; this was not an easy topic for her to discuss.

He swallowed again. "I uh…." He chuckled nervously, not sure how to answer her.

Katniss held up her hand. "You don't have to answer. Gosh, me and my stupid mouth. Forgive me for being just a crass, unprofessional grump today, yeah?"

He bobbed his head as he adjusted his gym bag on his shoulder as she playfully smacked his arm.

"Yes."

She gave another one of her throaty laughs that he loved and her silver eyes flashed as she turned around and headed back towards the double doors leading to the gym.

"See you Thursday!" she called.

"See you Thursday," he echoed, watching her leave. Turning slowly, he made his way out the front doors and into the spring air. It chilled the sweat on his body, but he barely noticed. Katniss had given him a lot to think about without even meaning to.

 **Kpkpkpkpkpkp**

The lenolium tiles stuck to her feet as she walked across the kitchen later that night. It was still spring, but the weather had been unseasonable warm and humid and she was enjoying getting to walk around for once without socks. It had felt like an impossibly cold winter with temperatures so nasty it made your skin ache just to go outside. Spring had been a welcomed change and she would gladly take whatever heat the new season threw at her. Ambling to the fridge, she pried it open and studied the meager contents with a pensive look, her eyes seeing but not really comprehending. She was too busy thinking about what Peeta had said about her being picky with men. Or ' _selective'_ as he'd put it. Was that really a thing, or was he just being nice? Peeta didn't seem like a liar, however, he _did_ strike her as the type of person who would say something to spare her feelings.

Prim shifted on the rickety stool where she was studying, making Katniss jump.

"Shit, you scared me," she exhaled. Prim gave her a ' _really'_ look at and popped her back. Katniss hadn't even noticed her sitting there when she walked into their small kitchen. She had her laptop open, a book propped up against the wall, and endless notecards strewn all around her on the tiny counter.

"Bad day?" her sister questioned, putting her pen down.

Katniss' face brightened, her thoughtful scowl disappearing. "No, actually….it was a good day."

Prim broke into a beaming grin. "This mean you aren't getting fired?"

She snorted. "There's still a very realistic possibility of that, don't count your chickens. But no, it wasn't today. Hey, I'm gonna grab a beer from Haymitch and sit outside. Study break?"

Prim shook her head mournfully, "No, I can't. I'm almost done making flashcards for this chapter and I still have a paper to write. How am I going to do all of this on top of clinicals?"

Prim was a good student – she knew how hard Katniss had to work to put her through school and the effort wasn't wasted. Her sister was either babysitting for extra money, studying, or in school. Like her sister she didn't have much of a social life.

"You'll do just fine. It's okay to get a 'B' every once in awhile, yeah?" she playfully mussed Prim's messy bun before opening the door leading down the rickety steps to the basement apartment. Haymitch's missing truck out front signified he was either still at work or at the bar at the end of the street, so she only waited a beat after knocking and calling for him.

"Ulgh," she grimaced at the smell that hit her nose when the door opened. It smelled like whiskey, unwashed clothes, and aftershave. Whiskey because he was a drunk, unwashed clothes from being nothing but drunk, and the aftershave to help cover up the fact that he was a drunk. _What a pig_ , she thought as she navigated her way through the dingy apartment to where the fridge was.

"Bingo," she muttered, hastily grabbing the remaining half of a six pack off the top shelf. _Milwaukee's Best_ wasn't her first choice, but it was cold and would do in a pinch. She had a lot to mull over and her budget didn't support alcohol purchases at the moment and besides, Haymitch wouldn't mind. Guilt made her pause and look around after cracking open the first beer. It was shitty basement apartment, but he didn't exactly do anything to help improve the state of things. Heaving a sigh, she put the beers down and figured she could at least work off her stolen beer. She did the dishes in his sink, wiped his counters down with some watered down bleach, and managed to gather up a load of his laundry and get it started in the communal washer and dryer they shared with Effie. Heading back upstairs, she nabbed an old quilt off the back of the couch and settled into a chair on the porch with her beers just as the sun was doing down and the crickets were starting.

She'd had a good day. Not great, but…good. Crane had backed off her a little and she felt like she was finally maybe getting the hang of things at work. Cleaning up sweat sucked and she loathed dealing with Cato, but things weren't overall that bad. Her thoughts shifted to her one and only client, Peeta. If she did a good job with him that would mean more clients. More clients meant more income and some stability at work. That would be nice. After more than one job not working out for her it was nice to start going to the same place every day and fall into somewhat of a routine. It had been a long time since she'd had a routine at work. She's never stayed anywhere long enough _to_ have a routine.

She sighed, taking a long drag of her beer. She was getting ahead of herself. First she'd need for Peeta to succeed. Her heart had broken for him when he'd stepped onto that scale. Of course there were reasons why he hadn't lost weight, but the first time back on the scale it would have been great to have a victory. He was so kind and determined. Katniss thought about the look on his face when he'd realized the ugly truth of it. He'd looked shattered but so utterly determined not to show it. Of all the people she'd seen coming and going at that stupid, trendy gym the past few months, Peeta was the first one she genuinely hoped made it. It was hard to care about the people who only wore their skimpy outfits and posed for gym selfies all day long, scoffing at anyone who had less than a certain percentage of body fat. They'd giggle and point at anyone they deemed less perfect and it sickened her.

 _I hope you make it Peeta._

She drained the last of the can and opened a new one, pulling the quilt around her tighter. The clocks had only been pushed forward for less than a month now and she was determined to enjoy her slightly longer days, even if she was a little chilly as the sun set on her front porch. It felt nice to sit and think. She hadn't been out there long when Effie ambled out, a half-drunk wine cooler dangling from her hand. Her bright, albeit slightly glassy eyes scanned the cement-cracked driveway and alleyway beside their house before even glancing in Katniss' direction.

"Oh…hello dear," she sighed, flopping down into the lawn chair beside her. They didn't have many options for seating – there was a wooden Adirondack chair that pinched when you got up, a lawn chair, and a lounge chair that looked like it had been stolen from beside a swimming pool in the 80s. Katniss had it, so Effie's choices were limited.

"And what are you doing out there on this _fiiine_ evening?"

Katniss tried not to laugh. Effie was clearly a few into her cups. "Just sitting. Drinking. Thinking."

"That's nice," her neighbor replied, taking a long swig of her wine cooler. "Have you seen-"

"He's not home yet. I stole his beers," she cut her off, holding up the remaining can.

Effie nodded nonchalantly, gazing off into the street. "I worry about him you know, Katniss dear, I worry that he's not taking _care_ of himself-"

"I should go switch his laundry over," Katniss muttered. "I washed his dishes and started a load for him. Place reeked."

"It always does."

"Why do you like him, exactly?"

It was no secret Effie was trying to woo their basement neighbor. The thought made Katniss shudder, but Effie obviously saw something in him. Her attempts had gone unreciprocated thus far, however, Effie wasn't one to give up easily.

"Haymitch? Oh, our dear old Haymitch…what would we do without him?"

Katniss looked into the yard they hadn't mown yet and wrinkled her nose. "Fix our own pipes and not have as much recycling, that's for sure."

"He does enjoy his drinks. But he's _good_. I've gotten so good at looking at people and determining their true character. It's in the eyes, you know," Effie rambled on and on about how she knew a good person when she saw them and how it was _all_ about the eyes.

Katniss thought of Peeta's soft blues. They were so expressive and tended to give away his feelings.

"Do you think…uhm, do you think it's good for a girl to be picky? Like, about…who she dates?"

Effie paused her babbling for a moment, rolling her head over to look at Katniss.

"What brought all this up?"

Katniss fiddled with the top of her beer can, twisting the tab until it popped off and bounced on the wooden porch. "I don't date a lot and…it's been pointed out to me that I'm maybe…picky."

The older woman thought a moment, her eyes bleary but thoughtful. "Well…but suppose that isn't bad?"

"You think so?"

"I don't think so."

"It just seems….like I'm putting too much thought into it. Like maybe I shouldn't…I don't know, be the way I am."

Effie sat up in her chair and looked Katniss square in the eye. "Do you remember what I looked like when I moved into this place?"

"Yes," Katniss replied quietly. She'd never forget the way Effie's makeup had failed to hide the red-rimmed eyes and fresh bruises on her face and the red marks on her neck shaped like fingerprints. She's been a shell of a person who for all intents and purposes looked like she'd given up. Fresh out of an abusive marriage and messy divorce, she hadn't even wanted her name on the mailbox for fear he'd come looking for round two. Katniss shuddered at the memory.

"Suppose I _had_ been a bit pickier. Would that be so bad? I could have saved myself the…" she trailed off, her eyes distant. It was strange to see her normally jovial and breezy neighbor look suddenly grim as she spoke. "I could have saved myself a lot. Do you know why I think I'm so good at sorting out the, the _good_ and the bad in this world? Do you know how I learned that?"

"How?" Katniss asked softly.

Effie remained solemn. "Because dear," her voice cracked slightly, "Because I have looked into the eyes of someone of the worst sort. And you never, _you never_ forget that look. There's a blackness there, a void. It's there. And you never forget that. It stays with you always. And after that happens," she licked her lips, "after that happens, it changes you. And you look at everyone you meet and you look for that blackness in their eyes. It's a cold sort of hate, so hard to miss once you've seen it. And hopefully you never miss it again."

* * *

 **Happy Monday! I figured this might help you start the week...**

 **Oh Effie! She was so fun to write - it's my first attempt at really writing her as a main supporting character and I hope I've done her justice. So fun to try someone new! A lot going on in this chapter and I so HOPE you all enjoyed reading it. I'll be back soon with more!**

 **I love hearing your comments and feedback. Please remember - I'm not a professional in this field of any sort. It's all purely fictional and I'm not a trainer, a dietician, a nutritionist, etc...I've done some research but this is all just for the sake of the story. I welcome and love your constructive feedback around these things. **

**Another note- Katniss was only irritated about people taking gym selfies because she was in a bad mood. It's not a personal peeve of mine or anything, just noted for the sake of the story - be proud of your workout and document your progress! Nothing wrong with that. She was just being moody and irritating when she griped about it. Take your selfies and never be sorry! :)**

 **Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Week 3**

* * *

Every time the bell over the door jingled, Peeta's eyes jerked to the front of the store. He couldn't help it – he'd been a coward and now he was paying for it. He'd called his mother and skipped out on their family dinner the night before, claiming he hadn't been feeling well. The tone of her voice told him she didn't believe a word of it. It was only a matter of time before she questioned it, and Peeta had always been a terrible liar. Dealing with is mother just wasn't something he could bring himself to do. The determination to succeed in this new venture of his was absolute – that he was certain. It was just that…it felt early to broadcast it to the world.

Because what if he did fail? What if he did all of this and couldn't stick to it?

Okay, so maybe he wasn't so absolute after all. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 _One day at a time, one day at a time…._ he chanted internally.

Admitting he was afraid to fail at this was more than he could handle, so he'd done what he could and faked sick to avoid his mother.

And her cooking.

Oh _God_ , her cooking. Peeta licked his lips. His mother was a shrew of a woman that was true; however, she could _cook_. Denying himself his mother's cooking wasn't a skill he was well versed in. The easier option had been to simply avoid it completely, even if it was a coward's way out. Of course there was the option to just go and limit himself and use portion control and-

What was he even saying? He knew that was a dangerous game to play. No, he'd gone cold turkey and was convinced that would have to work for the time being. Being on a diet meant that he was hungry and he did _not_ want to test fate by putting himself in front of a carb loaded, sugar crusted hell with a side of salt. Because that was what would have happened had he gone – his resolve would waiver and it was a slippery slope after that.

The uncertain look on Katniss' face the last weigh in day plagued him. She'd clearly been surprised he hadn't lost anything and that wasn't a moment he was willing to relive anytime soon.

His hand shook slightly as he adjusted one of the settings on the bread maker. The meal plan Annie, the dietician from the gym, had put him on did a good job of helping him cut out the foods he shouldn't be eating and give him more protein, but it sometimes left him slightly wanting and his body questioning it. She'd warned that it would be tough at first and his body would protest, but he hadn't realized it would be like this. He'd had a headache for a few days now and his stomach felt betrayed, if that was even a thing.

The list of foods he was allowed had perplexed him at first, simply because they weren't foods and methods he was used to. How did you pronounce _quinoa_ , exactly? What did _massaging_ kale include? Would chicken even _cook_ without being coated in breading? He'd never explored food like this before. The journey he was on was not only taking him out of his comfort zone, but it was also taking him to areas of the grocery store he'd never cared to know about before. He'd shopped almost the entire time on the outer ring of the grocery store – to his complete shock, nothing on Annie's list called for him to even step foot into the aisles of canned and boxed foods. All of the food on her list was high in protein, fiber, and designed to kick his metabolism into gear and fuel him for his workout. It was power food. It was _healthy_ food.

It was…

He glanced longingly at the case in the front of the store filled with cupcakes and cookies and sweet rolls and tried not to lick his lips.

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

 _No,_ he silently chided himself. He couldn't do that. He'd already screwed up and twice that week and allowed himself more than his allotted 'cheat' treats. Until this point he hadn't realized just how utterly addicted to sugar he'd been. Growing up, he'd always stayed active with sports and his brothers and hadn't sat still long enough to let the weight settle onto his body. Of course he'd been a little stocky, but an almost daily regimen of sports and exercise had helped keep the pounds at bay. According to Annie, that wasn't uncommon for bodies to shift and change as people aged. To his utter shock, Annie had given him a few ideas on what he could still eat as a treat every now and then, and he hadn't expected that. Every diet he'd tried told him to give up sugar and carbs and basically joy, so….the fact that he could still occasionally indulge left him more than a little surprised. She'd explained that he was easing his body out of his old habits while also hopefully keeping him from going on a wild, late night binge that would destroy everything he'd worked so hard to achieve.

Peeta was an emotional eater. He knew this. He knew that when he was contented, depressed, anxious, lonely, etc etc, he ate. Food was a friend and a fix for all occasions, happy, sad, and everything between.

But food had also gotten him to where he was now: staring, ravenously, at a cupcake like he hadn't seen nourishment in months.

Swallowing hard, he peeled his eyes away and pulled some almonds out of his apron pocket. The crunch was good and he knew it would take the shakiness out of his hands, but it didn't have the same creaminess of that marshmallow frosting-

"Peet?"

His father's voice cut through his little afternoon delight cupcake dream, making him jump like he'd been caught looking at porn.

"What?"

His dad frowned, looking around the empty storefront. "You uh….looked like you were concentrating on something. You sure you're not still under the weather?"

Peeta let out a laugh, shaking his head. "No, uh…well, I might as well tell you. I wasn't really sick last night dad."

"Oh?"

"No, I uhm….just didn't want to be around the family. And mom, but…erm, mostly…the food."

His father brushed the flour off his hands and leaned against the bakery counter across from him. "What's going on? You're not one to miss a meal."

"That's just it," Peeta replied wryly. "I never miss a meal."

His father's face was clearly confounded. Silence settled over them and Peeta felt his face heat up like it always did when he was embarrassed. Why was this so difficult? It shouldn't be humiliating to tell his father he was making a change in his life to better himself, but he couldn't help the fear and uncertainty that bubbled up in his stomach. The idea that he could go through all of this and _still_ fail was not lost to him.

"Is this about that girl? Glitter?"

Peeta made a face. "It's…actually Glimmer, but, no….it's not about her. It's about me and the fact that I…I need to lose weight."

"What brought this on?"

He paused, feeling stupid. "Well….okay, you got me. That day I tried to uh, ask her out set me back. Got me to thinking."

"About what, son?"

"That….I don't want to be like this my whole life. She told me I was fat and that just…stuck with me and I couldn't think about anything else for days. I've been avoiding it out of laziness but I just…I'm not happy in this body and I feel trapped in it. Like it's literally weighing me down and holding me back from what I want to do in life."

His father peered back at him. His gaze wasn't judgemental, but it was curious. Peeta knew why – this was the first time he'd openly talked like this to his dad about his weight.

"Which is?"

"I want…" he paused, shaking his head, "I want a wife, and kids, and to run my own business someday. I want to feel okay seeing myself in a mirror and not feel like shit for weeks after buying clothes. I want to keep up with everyone around me and just…not hate myself."

He'd never said that out loud. His words seemed to hang, midair, for a moment as his father gave him a look of complete shock. Sadness washed over his features.

"Peet….you don't…you don't really _hate_ yourself, do you?"

Peeta thought a moment. Maybe he was being honest, maybe a tad dramatic. But it didn't _feel_ dramatic. It felt like a dose of reality on his soul to say that out loud.

"Sometimes I do. And those times really….they just outweigh the times when I don't."

His father uncrossed his arms and let his hands hang at his sides in defeat. "Hearing you say that Peeta, I just….I feel like I've failed you as a parent. Buddy, you've never sounded like this before. I had no idea."

"You didn't fail me."

"Well, I sure as hell didn't do everything right. This is a knife to the gut. How long have you felt this way?"

Peeta thought a moment, his cheeks still ruddy with color. "I…I don't know. Awhile."

Another silence settled over them as his father shifted on his feet, leaning back against the counter. Thankfully the shop was empty, but anyone could walk in at any moment. He shouldn't have brought this up now…

"I want to help you do what you need to do. What…what can I do, Peeta?"

A tiny flicker of relief appeared within him at his father's offer. "Dad, look – that was a few weeks ago. I'm not great yet, but…I'm getting better. Taking steps to not…feel that way," he avoided using the word 'hate'. "I just want to keep this between us, if we can…"

"Of course, son."

"And if you see me pick up a cupcake, beat it out of my hands."

That earned him a smirk. He felt a grin break out on his face. "Not having this stuff is a struggle."

His father looked around the bakery, his eyes roving over the trays of snacks and treats. "Yeah, this uh…might not be the best setting for getting a diet going."

"Already started. Hence…ditching family meal."

"That's a start," his father sheepishly shrugged.

"I joined a gym. Got a personal trainer, and I'm working with a dietician," he admitted quietly.

That caused his father's eyebrows to shoot up. "Shoot, Peet, you really did?"

"Yeah, uh…goin' on two weeks now."

"That's great Peet! How's it….are ya….erm…"

Peeta had to smile at his father. His large blue eyes were hopeful but cautious as he struggled to find the right words to ask him how it was going. Peeta knew he'd gotten his sensitivity from his father, and that wasn't lost on him.

"I haven't lost weight yet, really. I'm just basically…sore and hungry," he chuckled. "But I'm not giving up. I know that much, so… Glimmer turning me down that day just made me realize a lot about myself and the main thing is that I want to change. I want to change more than I want to stay the same and that was enough to make me want to do it. Really commit."

The bell above the door chimed, signaling customers. Reaching forward, his dad clapped him on the back and grinned. "I think that's the first step. And you know what I always say about that first step?"

"It's the most important one," Peeta replied from memory, nodding at him.

"That it is."

* * *

They called it 'errand day'. Anytime they had the same day off, Katniss would use Gale for his car and he would use her for her couponing skills. They'd done it that way ever since he'd gotten a car nearly two years before she did (he was older) and they'd figured out how much they depended on each other. The first time she'd bartered him for a ride somewhere, he'd made her go into the store to buy new underwear for his little sister he'd been too mortified at sixteen to buy.

" _I need to get to the Save-A-Lot on Pine Street."_

 _She hadn't minced words as she'd flopped into the front seat of his old car that morning. It was barely nine in the morning on that hot July day and it was already sweltering. Her thighs were sticking to the pleather seats in the car that was older than she was. It didn't matter – it had wheels and could move, at least she'd gathered._

" _Why Pine? There's a Piggly Wiggly four blocks up," he'd muttered, shifting the car into gear._

 _She'd made a strangled sound in the back of her throat before reaching into her pocket and practically thrusting the coupons into his face. "For the extra dollar fifty for gas it takes to get to Pine, you'd save almost quadruple that if you go to the Save-A-Lot!"_

 _He slowed, frowning at her. The turnoff was coming up. "What do you mean?"_

" _If you buy milk that's closer to the sell-by date, they give it to you ten cents off. And I have a coupon for it, and since its Tuesday you can double your coupons, making it almost free…"_

She'd rattled off her knowledge of couponing to him and he'd been sold on it. Not to mention she'd gone in and bought Posy's Disney Princess underwear she'd desperately needed. At sixteen, he couldn't bear to buy it for her, so that had been his concession on that hot summer day. If he drove her the extra few miles to the Save-A-Lot, she'd go and take care of the task for him. She'd tossed the bag to him and the rest had been history. They'd been utilizing each other to survive for years – the fact that they were now into their twenties hadn't stopped them. To celebrate their random Thursday off work, they'd spent the morning in Gale's living room, clipping coupons and taking stock of what was in his pantry. He still lived in the house his parents owned, along with his three younger siblings. While Gale was the legal guardian of all three, Rory was eighteen and able to fend for himself. Vick was just fourteen and Posy was eleven, leaving Gale to basically still parent them after his mother split. _"Four kids, a dumpy little house, food stamps, and no one to share it with? Sometimes I don't always blame her for not coming back,"_ he would sometimes say when asked about her. When their fathers were killed in the mining accident, neither of their mothers handled it well. While her mother had slipped into a haze of depression and booze, Gale's had simply gone out to the market and never returned.

She rolled the window down on his old jeep, taking in a breath of the spring air. Winter had felt so endless. Endless heat bills, endless snow, just endless, endless, endless. Spring somehow felt like a second chance, a new start.

Her mind wandered as they drove, and she found herself thinking about Peeta. She'd stayed late at work the night before, researching and learning as much as she could about how to motivate her clients, specifically him. He was a hard worker – there was no denying that. He pushed himself and didn't ever complain and that felt like a lot to her. The desire to give something back to him in the form of motivation and hopefully results kept her constantly thinking of things to try. The realization that she wanted Peeta to succeed was ever present on her mind these days. He was dedicated, hardworking, and had yet to miss a workout. The only thing she could give back to him were the keys to success with all of this. For the millionth time since she'd met him, she wished she knew more.

"The usual route?" he asked, and she nodded as he turned onto the main road. Their lives were difficult from a very young age, there was no denying that. Not everyone would have been able to suck it up and move on after what had happened to them. Sometimes Katniss thought the only thing keeping her sane was the help she got from her best friend.

Rolling the windows down, she stuck one arm out the window and bobbed her head as Gale drove the familiar route. He glanced sideways at her and smirked.

"You're in a good mood?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Better than most days."

"I told you it would get better."

Oh, how she hated it when he acted like he knew something. Gale always did have an annoying way of holding it over her in a very brotherly manner that made her want to smack him.

"What would?" she snapped.

"Work," he answered. "I told you it would get better if you would just try."

"That's not…." She stopped herself, shaking her head. "Work is work. It's fine. I don't like…go there to have _fun."_

"Clearly," he laughed, tossing his head as he took a turn. "You're allowed to not hate it though, did you ever think about that?"

She snorted. "We can't all be screwing our coworkers in the janitor's closet."

Gale guffawed loudly, smacking the steering wheel. "That was one time!"

Katniss had made the mistake several weeks back to comment on some bruising on Gale's wrist. Concerned, she'd pressed and pressed him about it until he'd sheepishly admitted to having a partner that was rather rough with him. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out who that person had been. Gale had been mooning over their coworker Johanna Mason ever since he'd stepped foot into Panem Fitness. Petite, lithe, with calculating eyes and sloping cheekbones, Johanna was harsh looking but undeniably beautiful. With her sinewy toned body she attracted almost everyone with her good looks; it was the sheer shrillness of her voice and general distaste for anything breathing that usually scared people away. She had the toughest clients – the really _fit_ people that wanted to push themselves and pay to be screamed at. And oh, did she ever. On any given morning Johanna could be heard piercingly screaming into the faces of the masochists that had the courage to actually _hire_ her. Everything about her was jarring to Katniss – her eyes, her fiery red streaked hair, her voice. She hadn't understood Gale's attraction until he'd given her far more information than she'd cared to know about that day.

"Are you still letting that sick little twat tie you to her bed and beat you?"

It was Gale's turn to snort. "She's not beating me. She's…training me," he practically sighed. He looked just dreamy enough to make her sick instead of worry. The look on his face was smitten. Katniss felt ready to vomit.

"That can't be fun."

"You don't know her," he laughed. "She can get rough but shit I love it. Do you know-"

Holding up her hands, she cut him off before he could delve deeper into what made him get off. "No, and I don't want to know. Jesus Gale, you're my best friend. I don't want to know what sick shit Johanna does to you when you're tied to her bed. I have enough to worry about without thinking about you with your pants around your ankles, balls deep in that psycho. Gross," she shuddered.

He laughed again, clearly enjoying torturing her. Parking the car, they got out and made their way inside their first stop of the day. Katniss glanced sideways at him and shuddered again – how someone could want to tie her goofy, stubborn, dork of a best friend down and do dirty things to him was completely lost on her.

Shaking her head, she thumped him on the back with her bundle of fabric grocery bags. "Dumbass."

Gale just grinned.

* * *

The day had gone by quickly, so Peeta barely looked up anymore when the bell above the door rang. However, he nearly snapped his neck when he realized Katniss was standing across the counter from him, grinning widely.

"Hi."

His jaw dropped slightly as he slammed the register closed and handed the woman he was helping her change. "Thanks for coming in…." he said out of habit, already staring at Katniss. "You're here."

She laughed awkwardly, shrugging. "Yeah, well….you pointed out that I've never been here, so…here I am."

Peeta felt his face grow slightly hot, as it normally did when he was embarrassed. Of course he'd opened his big mouth and told her that their bakery was the best in town – what had he expected? Well, he certainly hadn't expected for her to show up halfway through his shift when he was slightly sweaty, his face smudged with flour, and reeking like strawberry frosting from the monstrous order or Elmo cupcakes Mrs. Pines had picked up earlier. He self-consciously twisted his hands in his apron while his mouth tried to form words.

"Yeah I uh….still can't believe you haven't been to the best bakery in town. Erm," he struggled to find his normal gift of gab he normally had when it came to customers. His father said Peeta and Delly were the most gifted people he'd ever met when it came to an uncanny ability to smile and strike up a conversation about almost anything with just about anyone. No, that little talent had suddenly slipped from his grasp as soon as she'd walked through the door. Fumbling, he forced a smile and gestured to the cases in front of her.

"What's your pleasure on this uh…lovely afternoon?"

Katniss smiled, slowly scanning the array of baked treats and goodness in front of her. The bell above the door rang again, but he barely noticed. He watched, transfixed, as she actually _licked her lips._

 _I baked that,_ he thought gleefully, _I baked that and she just…oh…_

Katniss couldn't believe her eyes. How had she never been into the Mellark Bakery before? While the outer façade was a little worn and unnoticeable with its old white brick and simple white sign boasting "BAKERY", the inside made up for any shortcomings. Sleek glass gases lined the narrow shop on three sides, displaying their items. On one side, a few intricately decorated cakes sat on proudly on pedestals nearest the window. The other side of the shop had loaf after loaf of fresh baked bread and _all kinds_ of it – fluffy white, deep, rich ryes, braided golden loaves…her mouth watered at the sight. But that was nothing compared to the case in the middle, the case that drew your eye – there, in neatly arranged piles, were an array of baked treats that would make anyone abandon their common sense. _This must be where diets go to die,_ she thought to herself, her eyes wide. They had doughnuts and bagels and _cinnamon rolls, oh!_ and fruit tartes, scones sparkling with sugar, and several other fancily decorated morsels she had no name for.

The door chimed behind her, but she paid no attention as she greedily scanned the cases.

"Hard to know where to start, isn't it?" Gale thumped her on the back, grinning like a child and breaking her dreamy food coma. She scowled briefly at him. Did he have to be so dumb?

"Gale," she hissed, rolling her eyes.

He gave her a questioning look but relented. They were best friends, but sometimes it was difficult to make Gale not act like a twelve year old boy who was her annoying little brother.

Glancing back at Peeta, she noticed his smile had faded slightly and he had a much more reserved expression on his face. His eyes rested on Gale, and he gave him a friendly nod.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone friendly but almost shy.

Gale shrugged. "Oh, I'm with her," he nodded to Katniss. "Just…give me two of whatever she picks," he laughed. "I could eat half of this place, easy…"

Katniss cleared her throat and offered Peeta an apologetic look. Gale was so immature…

"This is uh…Gale. Gale, this is my client, Peeta. His family owns this bakery and I've never been, so-"

"-That's why you dragged me to this side of town!" Gale interjected, shaking his head. "I shoulda known it was for food," he chuckled.

"Hi," Peeta offered meekly.

Gale being Gale, he reached across the counter and grabbed Peeta's hand, shaking it firmly and thumping him on the shoulder. "Good to know ya. Yeah, I've seen you around the gym. Katniss as a trainer, huh?" he sighed, grinning at his own stupid joke, "She tough on you?"

Peeta shrugged, his face turning slightly pink again. Katniss cringed on the inside as she watched the exchange. Peeta clearly was a little embarrassed that Gale had recognized him from the gym and was making a big deal about it. She stomped impatiently and elbowed Gale to get him back on track. This food was too good to just look at.

"She uh…yeah, she's helping me along. Got her work cut out for her," Peeta muttered, his smile not quite meeting his eyes.

Gale shook his head, "Nah, you'll get there, no worries."

"Yes, well….we have it all. What uh…brings you over here?"

"We were just out, running errands," Gale cut her off before she could speak, "So, what do you recommend?" he asked, turning his attention back to the food. Katniss breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been ugly. Gale had no shame – he was like a small child. It didn't occur to him to care what others thought and sometimes his mouth got away from him as a result. She supposed it was a defense mechanism to growing up with next to no money, second hand everything and basically having nothing. She'd been there herself – at rock bottom, you focused more on surviving and keeping siblings alive instead of what others thought. As she'd grown older that sense of shame and self-consciouness had returned to her; it hadn't for Gale. He regularly spoke without a filter or a care in the world to go with it.

Peeta took them around the store, pointing out various sweets and tasty things. To her delight, they offered samples of much of it and they had a solid ten minutes of taste testing.

"One of everything," Gale chuckled with stuffed cheeks, shaking his head. They each settled on a hot chocolate at Peeta's recommendation, a few bagels to take home, and a cinnamon roll with vanilla bean icing to eat right away. Peeta waved Gale off when he tried to pay.

"First time's free for friends, if you come back," he insisted, shaking his head. His hair was slightly too long in the front, falling into his eyes. Katniss watched as he removed the plastic glove he wore to serve them and pushed it out of his face. His eyes were somehow warm and so _blue –_ she didn't normally associate warmth in the jeweled, bright tone, but Peeta's eyes were somehow both. The blush had faded from his cheeks, but he was still obviously a little uncomfortable.

"This is amazing," she motioned to the cinnamon roll in her hand, beaming at him. It was hard to be unhappy with half of the delicious concoction in her stomach, and she suspected Peeta knew the feeling all too well. Good food soothed a person- it was a temporary escape. She'd spent the morning grocery shopping (which was always stressful), sorting coupons, and worrying how to stretch her paycheck another eight days when she could only afford three at best. But in those brief few bites, in the time it took her to savor and chew the warm, gooey treat….that had all fallen to the wayside. She hadn't thought about anything but how much enjoyment she was having as she ate. Perhaps, she thought, Peeta's shyness had made him retreat into a world that was comforting, a wolrld he knew – a world of food.

Before Gale could say something else embarrassing, she thanked Peeta and made him promise to come for his session with her the next day.

"Have I missed yet?" he smiled shyly, wiping his hands on his apron. "Tomorrow is weigh in day."

His gaze locked with hers across the pastry case and it took a moment, but she still saw a flicker of hope there. It was mainly determination, but it didn't take a genius to figure that out. While she'd known since they met he'd made a living with food, she'd had no idea the extent of the temptation Peeta faced every day. Where she'd gone most of her life without food, Peeta had lived the opposite extreme. Her heart clenched in her chest and her stomach turned itself in a little knot as she watched him. So much was riding on this – her job, her livelihood, but somehow Peeta's happiness had somehow edged its way up to the top of that list. For as long as she could remember, it was her and Prim at the top of that list and not much else. Gale and his family, of course, if she could help, but…..this was important too.

"Start of week three," she confirmed, nodding firmly. "I'm still just happy you're coming back."

Peeta avoided her eyes and instead let them roam over the cases in front of him. "Yeah, well….I like it so far."

Gale made a chortling noise in the back of his throat. She's almost forgotten he was busy scarfing down a cinnamon roll and with the delightful treat gone, he was free to run his mouth.

"I'm just happy she hasn't scared you off yet!"

Katniss turned, shooting him a scathing look. He withered slightly, green eyes going slightly wide. He'd push her only so far before he got that look.

"No, she uh…she's done great. I look forward to it," Peeta politely insisted, grinning shyly.

"You'll have to excuse him. He doesn't have full control of his mouth like most people oven the age of seven," she sneered over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, yea?"

"Yeah."

Kpkpkpkpkp

After she left, Peeta shuffled to the back. The afternoon rush had died down, and he didn't feel like facing all of that food in a moment of weakness anyway. He mindlessly wiped down a few countertops on his way behind the swinging doors before tossing the towel over one shoulder.

He felt like a fool.

He felt like a _right_ fool.

Katniss had a boyfriend.

* * *

 **Oh Peeta...sigh...**

 **I know a few of you are gunning for the romance on this, but I really did want to focus on Peeta's journey and struggles and really do my best to document his progress. I thank you all for your suggestions and feedback and I think (hope) I responded to everyone last time around who reviewed. Once again, I am no expert - my time in a gym is very limited (whoops) but I certainly have dieted in the past and experienced some of the things our characters have. I'm happy and healthy now, but not loving yourself can make for a difficult journey through life and nothing is easy if you feel that way.**

 **I'll stop rambling now and thank you for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 - Week 4**

* * *

A smart man would have moved on.

A man who'd been burned by women like Peeta had would have _definitely_ moved on.

Yet he still found himself sulking about the fact that Katniss had a boyfriend. Sulking so much, in fact, that he almost didn't hear her when she told him he'd lost six pounds at his next weigh in.

"Let me check that again, but it says six pounds."

"What?" he blinked, bringing himself back to the present. He was standing there, staring dumbly at Katniss as she waited for the digital scale he stood on to stop beeping and spit out a number.

"Six pounds," she confirmed, flashing that dazzling smile he so rarely saw.

He gave himself a little shake. "Six?"

"Six."

"Six," he muttered under his breath, as if to confirm it. He knew he sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't help it.

She gave him a playful little nudge to get off the scale, guiding him to the dreaded blue backdrop.

"You're sure?" he asked, still genuinely surprised.

"I'm not _that_ bad at math," she chuckled, motioning for him to stand in the middle. He swallowed hard when her hands lightly brushed his shoulders, helping position him in front of the blue screen. He posed for his second set of pictures, still slightly dazed enough to not care he was getting his picture taken. He'd been so wrapped up in his pouting ever since Katniss visited the bakery with that Gale guy he'd practically lost his entire appetite. He'd gone through the next three or four days in a haze, barely paying attention to anything around him. Even the cupcake he'd eaten in a moment of weakness had tasted like sawdust, and he couldn't remember that ever happening. Even at his lowest, food was a friend that never let him down or failed to impress.

She took his measurements next – a half an inch here, another inch there – he was still focused on the six pounds.

Katniss scribbled away on her notepad, entering in all of the measurements she'd taken. Watching her closely, he noticed her nod to herself and delicately chew the end of her pencil.

"Measurements are actually more your friend this week. Look," she held the clipboard over to him, comparing the numbers from his first visit until now. An entire inch off his waist! It was small victory, but a victory no less. Peeta seemed to ride a little cloud of glee all the way over to the treadmill for his warmup. He started every session with enough cardio to get him sweating, followed by whatever activity Katniss had planned for him that day. Sometimes they would do weights, others core exercises, sometimes stairs, and once she had even coaxed him into jogging around the indoor track. That had been his least favorite so far - he'd never cared for running, even though he'd done sports in school.

"What's sore today?" she asked, finally drawing him out of his thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, uh….not too bad. I was able to get out of bed today without groaning like an old man, so…"

She chuckled to herself, her bare shoulders shaking slightly with mirth. Peeta grinned to himself, happy to have made her laugh.

"I told you it would get to this point though. Where you're not as sore and your body gets used to it. Stretching feels good and you actually crave exercise."

"As much as I crave an Italian dinner? And cake? We'll see…"

"Maybe not that much," she relented, giving him a smirk. Reaching across his chest, she upped the incline on the treadmill and added a few punches to the speed. "Maybe moving faster will keep you from thinking about it," she said with a sly wink, and Peeta swore he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

Kpkpkpkpkp

The spring day was warm and bright, giving her an extra little jaunt in her step as she made her way back home that day. Was it the spring, or was it Peeta's infectious good mood? She couldn't be sure. For the first time, her job actually made sense. Peeta's success might as well have been her own by the way she let it lift her spirits. Of course she was still dealing with the reality of her own crappy situation, but the fact that work didn't suck for once and she'd helped someone who deserved it as much as he did certainly helped. And it felt _good_. It felt good to do something besides slide a latte over a counter, clean a tanning bed, or wipe down sticky tables at a diner (all things she had done at some point or another). It felt like she was making a difference to someone and it helped, darn it.

Arriving home, kicked off her shoes and socks and dumped her bags on the side of the house near the water spigot before dutifully heading out back to the small garden plot she kept with Prim. Their baby tomato plants were slightly wilted from the afternoon sun but looked overall decent. The carrots and lettuce were coming in nicely, as well as their two little kale plants. Twisting the spout, the water came spurting out and choked a few times before spraying onto the little plants.

 _Grow little guy, grow…_ she silently willed them. Eating healthy was expensive, no matter how she tried. The box store didn't always have the best or freshest selection, and she could forget buying healthy food from the trendy chain store near the gym. She looked forward to having at least five months of free produce to supplement their meals.

A rumbling sound broke her from her thoughts. Haymitch slammed the door to his old truck with a grunt and squinted over at her.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or do we have a regular Martha Stewart on our hands?"

Katniss shot him a glare, waving a few gnats away from her face. "What does that have to do with anything…" she muttered to herself. Haymitch was the first to tease her about gardening but the first to accept a healthy home grown tomato to eat when he grilled. She noticed him warily glance up the side of the house to Effies's window.

"She's at work," Katniss called at him.

He tossed her a glare before ambling into his basement door, letting the screen door slam behind him. She moved the hose over her plants, pausing only to let the now icy water wash over her feet every few minutes. Prim was at class tonight, and this was Effie's late night to work at the salon, so she was flying solo. She was thinking about taking Effie up on her offer to borrow a book from her collection of trashy romance novels when Haymitch called at her from the basement window.

"You been at my fridge, girl?"

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she winced in his direction. "Sorry," she called wryly. "I'll stock you up again on payday, yeah?"

He grunted in response, slamming around in his little kitchen. Finished watering, she put the hose back and was about to go inside when Haymitch reappeared with lighter fluid, a packet of hot dogs, and half a six pack dangling from his pinky finger. "You eat yet?"

"No. Hey, I think we have pickles leftover from the last time you grilled, you want some?"

"Wouldn't say no," he muttered good naturedly. Running inside to grab the pickles, she heard the scrape of the little Webber grill on the cracked sidewalk beside the house. Haymitch used too much lighter fluid to cook, but she wasn't picky. It was mean of her to steal his beer and not return it very quickly, but she'd trade him for some food and all would be right be right between them again.

"Sandwich bread?"

She snorted. "I know you don't have any hot dog buns Haymitch, and you honestly can eat a hot dog just plain? Be real. Here, come on, it's better than nothing," she urged him to drop a finished hot dog onto the piece of sandwich bread. He made a slightly face as she doused it with the works, but didn't turn her away when she handed it to him. The silence between them was comfortable as they ate their hotdogs that had been carefully folded into sandwich bread and doused with pickles and ketchup.

"You wanna beer?"

She laughed and nearly choked. "You scold me for stealing your beer and then offer me one ten minutes later?"

Haymitch stopped chewing to scowl at her, yet still held the remainder of the six pack over to her. With a laugh, she broke one off and opened it with a flourish.

"Cheers!"

He swatted her beer away from his, anxiously glancing up at Effie's window again. "Stop, you'll summon that woman with talk like that."

Katniss slurped the foam from the top of the can and wrinkled her nose. "She's at work, I told you. And why do you care?"

"Can't stand that woman, s'all."

She rolled her eyes and swallowed another bite. "You're like a sixth grader."

"What's that now?"

"You're like a sixth grader," she repeated, shaking her head. "You like her, so you tease her and play hard to get, then complains when she flirts back. I've seen you watch her walk away. Don't even, old man."

"I'm not old! Hey now…." He grumbled, taking a long drag of his beer.

"And if you liked anyone half as much as you liked your booze, you'd make a great boy toy for her. Imagine how dedicated you'd be!" she teased. He only glared at her.

"She's harmless. Lonely and nosey, but harmless," Katniss assured him, taking in his rumbled work shirt and stained cargo pants. "She must be desperate too. When's the last time you washed your work uniform?"

Haymitch heaved a sigh and shook his head. "Surrounded by lippy women I am. Shit, what's gotten into you today?"

Katniss laughed, letting her head fall back against the lawn chair. "It's warm out. Prim's mooching dinner from school tonight and for once, work doesn't suck. It doesn't take much with me, Haymitch."

He watched her sigh peacefully and take another long drag off her beer.

"Guess it don't," he quietly agreed.

* * *

Peeta wiped another bead of sweat from his brow, rearranging the icing bag in his hands a third time. Or was it the fourth? Fifth? It hadn't taken him this long to ice a damn cake since he was eleven. Between the smell of the sugary frosting coming out of the bag and the heat of the back room of the bakery, he was struggling. The warm air seemed to make the sugary foods all around him all that much more fragrant and alluring.

He didn't want to slip.

He really, _really_ didn't want to slip.

Had it been utterly disappointing and soul crushing to find out Katniss had a boyfriend? Yes. However, that still didn't keep him from wanting to succeed. Not that it mattered, he told himself. Glimmer hadn't wanted him, so what even made him sure a girl like Katniss would either? Her having a boyfriend shouldn't matter to him.

The frosting bag fell limply to the counter as he stared at the halfway finished, clearly struggling cake. _It shouldn't matter._ But for some odd, entirely random reason…it did. It sucked that she was taken and it sucked that he was still fat. Moping wouldn't change anything. Peeta knew that. Even if he viewed Katniss as an unobtainable goddess it still felt more than slightly disappointing to realize she was with someone else.

Pushing his hair out of his eyes (it was getting too long) he tried to refocus. He was still down six pounds as far as he knew, and no one but the frosting in his hand could take that away from him.

The swinging door from the front of the shop swept open, bringing a blast of cooler air with it. Looking up, he grinned at the sight of his sister in law, Delly.

"You gonna have that done in time?" she asked, her slight southern drawl just barely there.

"Yeah. Just….not working for me today for some reason," he brushed it off, shaking his head. Picking up the frosting bag, he set himself back to work and tried to look normal, like he wasn't moping. He should have known better.

Delly was many things; a good cook, a wonderful listener, a Pinterest fiend, and a wonderful husband to his brother.

While she was exceedingly kind, she also happened to be one of the most perceptive people Peeta had ever met. She had an astute way (without being cruel) of handling any situation to both gain information and help. It was lucky Peeta had fallen in love with her the moment his brother had brought her home – Delly wasn't someone you wanted to be on the wrong side of. Behind her plump cheeks, perfectly styled blonde waves and dazzling sea-green eyes, she was red-lipstick wearing witty genius. The first time Peeta's mother had hurled one of her famous, passive aggressive insults at Delly, she'd fired right back without batting a perfectly curled eye-lash. If Bran hadn't married her, Peeta was sure he would have tossed his name into the hat at some point. Despite his slightly soured mood, he had to laugh at the thought. True, he loved Delly, he but it was a brotherly love. His sister in law was hard not to fall in love with in some form or another.

His hands shook slightly. Damn, was it hard to be around sugar on a diet. His stomach gave a rumbling growl of agreement as he set the tube down and leaned on the counter.

Behind him, Delly was busy doing the quarterly inventory at the shop that day. A master problem solver and a math whiz, she had gladly taken up the task several years ago after marrying Bran. Pausing, she glanced at Peeta and stopped, mid-pen stroke.

He could tell by the glint in her eye that whatever she was about to say would be teasing.

"I've been runnin over hell's half acre in this shop this morning and you haven't even finished half a cake. What gives?"

Peeta sighed. "Nothing…"

"I may be blonde, Peeta, but I wasn't born yesterday," Her no non-sense tone made the hairs on his neck stand up. Delly was like his mother, albeit nicer, but she was like his mother in the sense that she _got_ what she wanted. The sweet Southern Belle act shouldn't fool anyone. "What's eatin' you?"

Pen and clipboard discarded, she moved over to the counter where he stood. "Bran said you missed family dinner last week."

He gave her a knowing, sideways glance. "And where were _you_ exactly? You weren't there either?"

"My spice rack needed re-organizin'," she lied sweetly. The innocent smile she answered him with told him she didn't expect or care if he believed her answer. It was no secret that Delly abhorred Peeta's mother. It was no secret that _anyone_ loathed their mother, but even a saint like Delly could take so much.

"Nice," he chuckled sourly, "I uh….just didn't feel like dealing with everyone."

"You mean your mother?"

"Everyone," he sighed. "Last time I was there, mom….just was too much. Calling me fat, telling me I'd never meet anyone and I was crazy for trying, basically."

Delly rolled her eyes and fanned herself in the warm air. "For a woman with an ass the size of a dump truck, she sure doles out the fat barbs like she doesn't have a care in the world. Lord…"

Peeta laughed out loud at that. While his mother was nowhere near the size of the males in their family, she was by no means a petite woman. As Delly said, she also had no qualms about being rather judgy about others.

"How do you handle this family, Delly? You could have married any guy, why pick the one with a nightmare of a mother?"

She cocked her head to the side, smiling sweetly at him. She looked like she wanted to pinch his cheeks. "I fell in love with ya'll….you were so sweet and welcoming, well, minus _her_ , but….Bran was a package deal. I loved him, so I loved everything that came with him."

"Including a mother in law who makes snide fat jokes at your expense? How do you just not…arrrgh," he growled to himself, shaking his head.

Delly sighed, leaning on the counter with a hand on her hip. "If I let every snide little comment about my curves go to my head, I'd never leave the darn house, Peeta. She isn't the first person to call me _Thunder Thighs,_ and she certainly won't be the last. If I took every little jab about my curves and my weight seriously I'd make myself crazier than dozen squirrels tied together."

He snorted at that. "Where do you come up with these sayings?" he temporarily had forgotten his disquiet.

"Alabama and a grandma who liked her whisky neat. Now don't dodge me, Peeta, we're too good a'friends. What are you running from?"

Delly saw right through him – she always had. He might as well come clean. Knowing Delly, she's have his entire life solved in a week if he'd let her.

"I….asked out the girl and she shot me down. I shouldn't have….she was….she was too much for me."

"Too much _what_ , exactly?"

"Too pretty, to thin, too…much," he shrugged, running a hand through his hair. It would be streaked with flour and smell like icing now, but he was past caring. "I made the mistake of not keeping it from my mom. She tore into me and made me feel…well, how she does. And I guess it was just a breaking point for me. I don't know. Something changed and I just knew I had to do something. I snapped. I didn't even want to be in my own body anymore."

Delly leaned forward. "You sound like you did something crazy. What's going on, Peeta?"

"I uh…did do something a tad crazy."

"Like what?"

"Well, I…I joined a gym. Got a personal trainer and all that. Started talking to a dietician and….working on it."

Delly's face morphed from antipathy to pride. She beamed. "Peeta, that's…that's a big deal now! You didn't tell me!"

He shrugged. "I didn't really tell anyone for a while. I was too embarrassed to fail. But I'm down a few pounds now and inches, and…and I like it."

Peeta could feel how red his cheeks were as he spoke, avoiding eye contact. He was leaving out one key thing about his newfound passion for getting fit. That 'thing' was a petite brunette with steely eyes and a raspy gut laugh that made his chest clench. His sister in law gleefully grilled him for a few minutes, asking questions and listening with rapt interest as he told her all about his experience so far.

"So why are you still so down and out? Who gives a rat's ass what that old bat has to say?" she beamed, her round cheeks pink with happiness as she playfully elbowed him.

"Well….I can't believe I'm telling you this. You swear not to tell Bran?"

"Cross my heart."

"My trainer…she-"

"She?" Delly interrupted, her eyebrows shooting up.

Peeta blushed harder. "Yeah, she…she's great. Supportive and nice and….really pretty."

Cue another elbow to the ribs. "Peeta! I shoulda known. You charmer…"

"No! No," he laughed, shaking his head. "She isn't….we aren't…that's…no," he stammered. "She's gorgeous, actually, and really cool to talk to but she has this boyfriend."

Delly's smile fell slightly, but she shrugged casually. "Is it serious?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "He works at the gym too. He's…tall and buff and…my opposite, really. She brought him into the bakery last weekend," he sighed.

"Ah," she said, crossing her arms. Another shrug. "Well, they aren't married, are they? Engaged?"

"No, I don't think so…"

"Well," she said lightly, "She ain't married. Boys come and go, Peeta. I dated men I didn't marry or even get that serious with. I was casually datin' someone when I met Bran."

"You were?"

"Mmmhmm….we'd been out on a few dates and it was just…alright. Nothin' special. But I thought, 'What if this is my one shot? What if this guy turns out to be the best I can do? Big girls don't always get the pick of the litter Delly'….that's what I said to myself after dating this guy. Then I met your brother and he was just….somethin' special, right from the get go. I couldn't believe I was about to let myself settle. He was too good for me to let go. So I broke it off with the other guy and told your bother he was taking me out on a date that weekend."

"I remember. You're likely the first and last woman to ever _demand_ a Mellark man take a woman out on a date, Delly," Peeta chuckled at the memory. Bran had come home, completely stunned after meeting his now-wife, and even more surprised when the next time he'd seen her, she'd demanded he take her out. To say it was a shocking turn of events was putting it lightly.

"Right, well….I saw something I wanted, so I made a move. Poor boy didn't know what hit 'im. Still doesn't," she snorted. "But what I'm sayin' in is she isn't married to this guy. Just keep going and be her friend. Get to know her. You're a charming boy, Peeta."

"Man, actually."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful swat. "You know what I mean. You have so much to offer a girl. You're so much like your brother, but even better in some ways," she sighed. "You're more sensitive than Bran. Women love that. You're also more creative and got that quick wit. Your bother sometimes…" she shook her head with a smile. "Don't beat yourself up."

"Thanks Dells," he offered her a grim smile.

"I mean that. Keep going to see her – work on yourself. You gotta learn to love yourself before you can expect any sane woman to. Fix your stuff and just get to know her in the process. You might be surprised what happens."

"Coming from a woman who has never met Katniss?"

"Katniss? That's her name? That's pretty…." She said slowly. "No, it's coming from a woman who had to date a few frogs before she met her prince. And I know you, Peeta Mellark. You ain't a frog, any day of the week."

* * *

 **Oh Delly! I hope you enjoyed their pep talk. I know there was limited Katniss/Peeta interaction in this one, but I promise you that almost the entire next chapter is just those two.**

 **Sorry for the delay! I know I have some new readers here and I just got preoccupied with the nice weather the Midwest is finally having and if I'm being honest, I've been wrapped up in reading OTHER people's stories! So much good stuff out there, so fun to read and enjoy. I forgot how much I loved reading fanfic and I've been sucked into quite a few good ones lately of all different types and fandoms. But the next chapter is on the way!**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Week 5**

* * *

The thrill of losing six pounds was gone.

It was _long_ gone.

And it had taken every ounce of his self-control with it.

Leaning over, he took a few deep breaths and tried not to visibly pant enough that someone would stop and think he was about to drop over. Well, he might be, but pride kept him from admitting that. By his estimation, he was about five miles from home and had left his cell phone on the couch he'd hastily abandoned almost an hour and a half before. It had started well enough – he'd had a busy day at work, what with spring and all the baby showers and wedding cake orders pouring in. He'd dutifully ate his protein-packed lunch of baked chicken marinara and green beans and had finished the day strong. He'd avoided the delicately frosted blue cupcakes and sparkling wedding cake frosting as best he could.

Then…he'd gone home.

Home was where he struggled. Home was where he got into trouble with his eating. The siren call of his overstuffed sofa and his Tivo que had been too much to bear. Exhausted, he'd made the mistake of flopping down on his couch, kicking off his shoes, and settled in for a long night of holding his couch down and diving into his tv shows. That's when he'd noticed it: since when had TV commercials gotten so focused on food? Ad after ad flashed in front of his eyes, boasting two for one pizza deals, a seafood buffet doused in butter, and an Italian feast fit for any pasta lover. He didn't even have a particularly expensive TV, and yet there all this food was, glowing and glistening and ready for him. His growling stomach had gone from annoying to ravenous the longer he watched. Watching all of that decadent food flash in front of him in HD was doing nothing for his self-control. Hell, if he focused hard enough he could _taste_ some of it. Driven to madness, he'd donned his workout gear and started walking.

Peeta had been so focused on the memory of all those stupid commercials when he realized he was so far from home. He could almost laugh at his own stupidity – almost.

 _Could be worse,_ he thought, wiping sweat from his brow. He could be home right now, buried in a two for one pleaser deal with a large fudge brownie. _Those were the days,_ he thought wistfully. Glancing down, he eyed his stomach. He was still hungry. No amount of sweaty walking would take that way.

No amount of walking would take the hunger away, but he _had to do this…_

Katniss' face flashed in front of his eyes, but he let it dissolve almost before it could tease him. Glimmer had been a lesson to him, a lesson that he couldn't do any of this for some girl. He had to lose this weight and change his lifestyle for himself.

He glanced around the quaint little neighborhood where he now found himself, struck with the weight of his realization. As much as he didn't want to climb on that scale on Sunday and see a number he regretted and let Katniss down, he knew he didn't want to let _himself_ down. Of course her opinion of him was important – she was his trainer, his guide, his expert in navigating this new and scary world of weight loss. He wanted to please her. But….he also knew this journey had to be about _him._ What he wanted. And he didn't want to feel this way anymore – like he hated himself, avoiding mirrors and the attention of others. That was no way to live.

Thinking back to all the lonely nights on his couch, huddled over a box of takeout, celebrating the fleeting moments of happiness that food could bring, and he realized that what he had been doing wasn't living.

It was existing.

And it had gotten old.

A new life wasn't hiding under a pizza, or in the bottom of a Chinese takeout bin. It was before him and he needed to embrace that.

With a sniff, he straightened up and turned in the direction of home. It would take him over an hour to walk back, but hopefully by then he would be so exhausted he could just shower and collapse into bed.

Putting one foot in front of the other, he slowly began his trek back.

 **Kpkpkpkpkpkpkpk**

Katniss watched Peeta wince slightly as he finished his squat reps. She had him doing a free-form round of workouts today, targeting a different group of muscles each time. They would do short sets of several before moving on to target a different area of his body. For the first time in a while, she realized he was visibly struggling.

"Are you alright?" she finally asked.

Peeta gave her a sheepish look as he struggled to stand upright. "No?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Was that a question?"

"Yes?"

She snorted. "Wanna tell me what happened and why you can barely walk today?" she tried not to frown, but damn it that was just what her face _naturally_ did, so she found herself frowning at him and making his cheeks redden. _He was kinda cute when he blushed…._

"Don't make fun," he wheezed, wiping his forehead. "I uh…overdid it last night."

"With what?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Yes."

"Walking."

She kept her face neutral as she waited for a further explanation. "Walking?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I uh…didn't want to be home. So I just started walking. Before I knew it um…I was a bit further than I realized. Little too dumb to realize I hadn't really planned it."

"Let me guess – it wasn't exactly a circle?"

"No," he said flatly, shaking his head. "I trekked back and I guess I…overdid it." He searched her face for a few moments, she guessed waiting for her to laugh.

With a shrug, she handed him a medicine ball. No laugh came. "It happens. We've all overdone it, nothing wrong with that as long as you didn't pull anything or sprain anything?"

Peeta felt a rush of appreciation towards his trainer. She hadn't made fun of him.

"No," he breathed, "Just sore."

"Good. Well, it's better than sitting around, right? Just don't overdo it again. Maybe take some Advil tonight and take a hot shower. Stretch before bed, you'll live, yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed, giving her an awkward smile. "Just feel kinda silly."

"Why's that?"

"I just….got a few miles from home before I even really realized what had happened. How dumb is that? Wandering off like some idiot?" he laughed nervously again, shaking his head at himself.

Ignoring his comment, she motioned for them to stand back to back. "Twist to one side, grab it from me, twist the other side, hand it back. Thirty reps…ready?"

"Ready," he mumbled. They started the exercise and Peeta seemed too tired to really be as stiff as he normally was when she touched him. It hadn't escaped her that he tended to tense and stutter anytime she so much as brushed his arm. If it lasted longer than a split second, he would blush too. Katniss smiled to herself. It was endearing. He wasn't the guy that copped a cheap feel and felt boastful about it. That warmed her cold heart, somehow.

"Twenty nine…and…thirty. Take a breath, drink some water," she coached.

"So….care if I ask what made you walk so far?"

He shrugged. "I….my place just reminds me of food, as weird as that is. Memories of just doing…" he gulped in nervousness at admitting this in front of Katniss, "nothing. Just eating, and sitting, and hating it. A night it's just hard sometimes not to fall backwards into bad habits, so….I just didn't want to be there."

"That makes sense. I've heard of places and people triggering bad habits. That's not anything unheard of," she assured him. His admission felt like it was difficult, and she ached a little for his candor. That couldn't be easy for him to admit to her.

"So are you staying on track then? With Annie's plan?"

He nodded earnestly before taking a long drag from his water bottle. He didn't seem like the type of person who would lie, she realized. Her eyes focused in on him. It was rude to stare, but she couldn't help following a bead of sweat as it rolled down his neck. Down the path of his neck, past his Adam's apple, and down into his t-shirt it went. Blinking stupidly, she quickly looked away. Why was it that when some men sweat, it smelled like the underside of a damp dumpster, but when Peeta sweat, it smelled like a manly mixture of spice and cinnamon? It didn't seem fair. She smirked to herself as they started another set.

"Yes, I am. It's hard sometimes….I'm still hungry, and I caved last week. I had a cupcake at work."

"I still say you have an iron will to work in a bakery and attempt a diet. If I worked there, I'd fantasize about sneaking back into work after everyone left for the day and just eating myself stupid on those cinnamon rolls. I feel like you'd find me the next day, collapsed on top of a heap of bread, dead from gorging myself on icing," she muttered.

Peeta snorted, grabbing the ball from her to twist. "But what a way to _go_. Think of the obituary."

"Right?" she laughed. "That's about thirty. We forgot to count."

"Would it help if I told you it _felt_ like fifty?" he joked.

She laughed again, letting the medicine ball drop to the mat with a _thud._ "I guess. Now I have cinnamon rolls on the brain. How _do_ you do it? Not eat all day?"

He shrugged. "I guess I kinda used to, ya know? But it didn't lead to good things…"

"I guess. But I still say you have amazing will power to be around all that food and not eat it all day long. I wouldn't beat myself up over a cupcake. Once you get to a certain point, I think a cheat day is allowed."

"Annie said that yea," he panted. "She wants me closer to my goal weight though. That's more for when you're at target and maintaining I guess."

"Makes sense," she nodded. "Do you want to weigh?"

"Now?" he asked, his head whipping up.

"Yeah, it's been a week since your last one. Why not?"

"Uhm…."

He blushed harder and stammered a few times, but didn't really fight her on it. Following obediently, she hopped up the stairs to the weighing station and readied her clipboard for his next weigh.

"It's not….it's not the execution block you know," she laughed at her own attempt to crack a joke. She couldn't help it though. Peeta looked like he'd just been invited to witness his own untimely death when she brought up the scale. Was he really that anxious about it? Should she not joke?

"I know, I just…."

"You've been here four times a week, you've stuck to Annie's plan…what's the worst that could happen?"

He gave her a sheepish look before stepping onto the scale. No answer came. Instead, she realized he was focusing on looking anywhere but at the scale.

Letting her eyes drift to the digital display, she quickly did the math and felt her face brighten. "Five pounds down. That's eleven total in five weeks. We call that 'not too shabby' in my business," she grinned, urging him off the scale and towards the blue backdrop.

Peeta seemed momentarily distracted from the horror of getting his progress pictures taken by her words. "Five?"

"Five."

He was quiet, she realized. "What's wrong?"

"Does that seem like a lot to you? Or not much?"

She snorted, pulling out the camera. "Uh, yeah. Next time you're at the grocery store, go the meat section. Pick up an eleven pound turkey and think about your body no longer having to haul that around. Then come talk to me, okay?"

She watched him think a moment before chuckling to himself. "Yeah, okay."

 **Kpkpkpkpkpkpk**

 **Short update! I know, but I wanted to let you all I was still alive. Summer weather and these long days have me outside on my back deck allll the time, so my apologies. Any mistakes are my own, and I've had some wine this evening, soo... ; )**

 **Love you all, thank you for following this story on it's journey!**


	14. Chapter 14

Week 5

The longer, sunnier days did much to improve Peeta's mood as the week wore on. Well, that and he had definitely wandered over to the meat section and had picked up an eleven pound turkey, weighing it awkwardly in his hands until the woman next to him had looked at him funny. How had he gotten so used to carrying all of that extra weight around? It didn't seem possible that he hadn't noticed it. The turkey was still on his mind as he'd driven home after work, lining up his groceries on the counter in front of him.

After his turkey-centric conversation with Katniss the other day, he'd met with Annie again to discuss his diet. After some urging from Katniss, he'd shared with Annie what he'd divulged about struggling at home with snacking and making bad choices. Annie had simply given him a wistful smile, nodding with understanding. As someone who'd spent most of her life with extra weight she understood what he was going through, much to his relief. She'd recommended he take his diet up a notch and had sent him some links to peruse about meal planning and prep. He'd snuck out at lunch with is ipad in tow, picking a quiet park bench to look at what she'd sent and scribble down a grocery list.

Now, with everything spread out in front of him it looked like a _lot_ of work. Not even his most complicated fruit tarte had this many ingredients! It took him almost an hour to get the four or five different meals he'd chosen separated and chopped up, and another hour to cook it. By the time he was finished packing it all up he was almost too exhausted to work on the snacks.

 _This will make or break me,_ he told himself. Snacking was his worst enemy. The urge to munch on garbage was the strongest when he was bored and a meal was still hours away.

Heaving a sigh, he set back to work, dividing his hummus and cutting up celery sticks and carrots. He bagged roasted almonds, cut up fruit, and organized it all into a few handy baskets inside his pantry. Mournfully, he eyed the place on the shelf where his beloved chips and fun-sized candy bars used to dwell. The shelves now looked empty as he realized most of the food he could eat didn't have a long shelf life and required refrigeration.

By the time he flopped down on his couch, he was exhausted – both from his workout _and_ the meal prep. Healthy food was expensive, and getting all of that organized, bought, and prepared was a lot of work.

It dawned on him - _if it were easy, everyone would do it._

Sitting up slightly, he felt like he'd been hit over the head with that realization. If it were easy to be thin and good looking, then everyone would do it. A surprised little laugh slipped out as he leaned back against the couch cushions, the room suddenly quiet. How was he just now realizing that?

It wasn't magic.

It wasn't wishful thinking.

It was work.

Kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

Katniss knew it was officially summer when Prim danced through the front door, waving her papers and grinning ear to ear.

"Finished?"

"Done! Well, for now. It'll be nice to have a bit of a breather for a few weeks. Should we celebrate?"

Katniss rolled her eyes and gave her little sister a grudging nod, knowing what she wanted. "Strawberry?"

Prim nodded, grinning like a fiend. They'd walked up to the corner gas station, Katniss ducking in to purchase two bottles of Arbor Mist Strawberry zinfandel. True, Prim was only nineteen, but it was the one normal thing Katniss felt like she could do for her little sister. It cost loads extra to live on campus, and Prim hadn't so much as complained when they'd picked the shabby old house within walking distance of the school. Prim didn't get to live in a dorm with her friends, she didn't get to join a fun sorority, and she rarely even went to parties because she was busy studying. Of course she knew it was wrong to buy her alcohol, but Prim's favorite wine could barely give her a buzz so Katniss found herself caving on special occasions and buying them each a bottle. Finishing school for the year seemed like a good excuse as any to bust out the cheap wine.

They now found themselves on the front porch with Effie, watching as the sun set behind the old oak trees lining their street. They were drinking the wine out of the bottle while Effie sipped her own boxed wine out of a plastic wine glass. She'd been hanging around the back trash cans, pretending to look for the 'toe ring' she'd lost earlier (she was really waiting for Haymitch). Taking pity on her, Prim and Katniss had invited their upstairs neighbor to drink with them and enjoy the evening.

Katniss waved a gnat away from her still damp toe-nails, wrinkling her nose. "Are you sure this isn't ugly?"

"The color? No, it's fine. Trust me, you needed a pedicure," Prim assured her. Katniss leaned over her bent knee from her perch on the top step. Prim was beside her, applying another coat of glitter topcoat to her own toes. Effie had hauled down a ziplock baggie full of her nail polishes for them to choose from, but Katniss was still doubting her choice of color.

"Coral is so _in_ this season," Effie nodded from behind them, confirming it as if she was telling them the sky was above them. Katniss had to laugh at her sometimes.

Effie fanned herself and sighed, long and heavy. It was obvious she was frustrated that Haymitch wasn't home yet, but did she have to be so obvious about it? A truck backfiring up the street had Effie leaning so far out of her chair the plastic groaned in protest.

"But who cares if my toenails are painted? I sure as hell don't," Katniss muttered, taking another long pull from the bottle. The wine was a little too sweet for her taste, but the subtle carbonation was nice. Nice enough she'd drink it with her sister, that is. It hadn't taken much to make Prim happy – she didn't remember the last time she'd seen her sister so happy when they'd twisted off the caps earlier.

"You wear flip flops all summer, don't make me look at your nasty toes," Prim chided her. "You have those leather sandals with the heel, remember? You'll wear those this summer."

Katniss snorted. "Wear them where? I don't even go anywhere," she lamented.

"You could," Prim sniffed, wiping away a smudge of glitter polish.

"You go out with that Gale fellow," Effie shrugged. "He seems like the type that would appreciate painted toes!"

Katniss laughed. "Gale wouldn't notice painted toenails if a girl kicked him in the teeth, Effie. Besides, I couldn't care less what Gale thinks."

"Not in a million years then?" Effie winked, giving her a conspiring look.

Katniss made a barfing sound that wasn't entirely fake. She'd never, _ever_ seen Gale that way. Of course he was good-looking, tall and fit, but their relationship had been more about survival and not an ounce of romance. They'd been friends since they were kids and this wasn't the first time someone had tried to assume they were more. But they just weren't. She'd never understood the grinning fools who'd laughed in her face and told her "guys and girls can never be _just friends!"_

Just the memory made her want to roll her eyes. There'd never even been so much as a spark of romance between them and she preferred to keep it that way. No, they were more like siblings and that suited Katniss just fine.

"Not even then. I know too much," she chuckled. The thought of doing anything even remotely romantic with Gale made her shudder. She'd heard about his first kiss, his first time, and many other things in-between and had never felt an ounce of jealousy where she wished she was the girl underneath him.

"Someone else in mind then?" Effie pried. Crickets chirped around them, as if waiting for her answer.

"What's with the twenty questions?" Katniss snapped, looking up with an annoyed frown. Waving a gnat away from her face, she gave Effie her best snarling glare.

"I hope your face won't stick like that, dear," Effie heaved and exasperated sigh, waving her free hand at Katniss while Prim looked amused. "I _have_ no love-life of my own to speak of! I have to focus on the love-needs of others, girl, you know this! Don't act so surprised. Anywho, you're a young woman in the prime of her life! Would be a shame if there wasn't someone in it," Effie drawled conspicuously, her eyes sparkling.

"I hate to disappoint you, Effie."

Effie sighed, not even bothering to attempt to hide her exasperation. She knew she shouldn't be mean to Effie – she was single, lonely, and recently scarred by love. Of course the woman would want to hear something light hearted and gossipy, but why was she so focused on Katniss' love life? Since when was it the topic of conversation? There had been boys before, and dates, and flings, and…things she wasn't proud of. Staying home every night with Prim and doing math homework while cooking dinner for her sister didn't leave much time for romance and excitement. When she _had_ gotten a free night here or there, she'd made up for it tenfold. Her mind thought back to when she'd been seventeen – Prim's little friends had invited her to a sleepover and Gale and his friends had taken Katniss out to party. Half a bottle of Wild Turkey and six hours later, she'd lost her virginity while locked in the bathroom at the local dive bar on the edge of town. He was a year older, one of Gale's friends. She still cringed at the memory.

Katniss heaved a sigh, shaking her head. The more she thought about it while staring out at the street, the more it itched at her. "Where did society get the idea that all women were boy crazy? Why do I have to like anyone? I mean, who says that in order to be content with my life I have to be pining away after some man? Why can't I just….be?"

The porch was silent for a moment after her little rant. She blinked, the trance broken. Behind her, Prim and Effie were so amused they were making hissing sounds before bursting into laughter. Katniss felt her stern façade start to break, and soon even she had to laugh at her own gruff stance on crushes.

She didn't have to like anyone to be happy. She didn't need a man in her life.

It should have bothered her then, when Peeta's shy, bright cheeked smile came to the front of her mind.

It didn't.

* * *

Peeta tried his best to keep his breathing normal and steady as he jogged, but was failing.

Miserably.

Wincing, Katniss reached across him, punching the buttons to slow his pace to a walk. The beeping noise signifying the slowing of the machine was like a sweet symphony to Peeta's ears. Relief burned through his muscles as he slowed to a walk, sucking in a deep breath of air through his nose and out his mouth. He _hated_ running.

"I hate running," Katniss replied, echoing his silent thought.

His eyes flashed up to hers as he grabbed his towel, self-consciously mopping his brow. The smell of cleaning solution was strong that day, and it was burning his already flaming lungs.

"You do?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. Her chocolate brown hair was in two loose braids that day, but the normal wisps and strands had fallen out on the sides, framing her heart shaped face. Peeta gulped nervously, trying not to stare.

"Well…treadmills suck," she admitted, hiding her eyes with her hand. "Hashtag bad trainer," she muttered. "I don't mind running if it's like, outside or whatever. At least you go somewhere, it… has a purpose, you know?"

"I just hate it in general," he admitted. He'd managed to heal from his disastrous long walk the week before, but he wasn't feeling that level of cocky again just yet. Working out was getting easier and easier but was still far from fun or completely easy. He'd long ago accepted that he'd never be one of those people who 'go a runner's high' or craved a workout. He was really just trying to remember his epiphany from the other night – _if it were easy, everyone would do it_. It was a phrase he repeated to himself over and over as he'd been coaxed into jogging on the treadmill in front of Katniss. Nothing sucked more than having to run in front of the girl you had a crush on – everything bouncing and jiggling while dripping in sweat. He despised it, but he wouldn't tell her no.

"We could try running outside sometime if…if you want," she offered, somewhat shyly. He watched as she fiddled with the elastic cord holding her pen to her clipboard. Her eyes avoided his, and a slightly pinkish tone had taken to her cheeks. Peeta balked internally, trying to remain calm. Was she…asking him to do something outside of work?

"Is that uh…allowed? Erm, can you do that with clients?"

She laughed awkwardly, grinning as she avoided his gaze. "Not really. But if you ever wanted to…not that you're like, dying to run and get sweaty and not pay for it for a change," she motioned to the gym around them. Peeta laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"I would love to be tortured for free for a change," he chuckled. "Sign me up."

Katniss finally looked at him, her cheeks still slightly pinked. _It is warm in here,_ he realized. But that didn't exclude the fact that she still was inviting him to do something outside of work, where she wouldn't be getting paid to spend time with him. Or was he reading too much into that? Crap, he thought, way to overthink a simple gesture. He guessed he would need to wait and find out.

"We'll do that then," she agreed. "Okay, how about we do some squats?"

His dreamy mood was broken as she motioned for him to get off the treadmill and head over to the mats. His muscles did feel loosened and ready to work, even he had to admit that. As she ran him through the now-familiar series of repetitive exercises, he decided to take a chance and ask her questions to keep the ball rolling and distract himself from the painful pulls and burns in his muscles as he worked.

"So…how did you get into all this fitness stuff?"

Katniss looked surprised at his question, her grey eyes opening wider. "What, like this job?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Of all the jobs out there, what made you take it?"

"They were willing to hire me," she laughed under her breath. A louder, more relaxed laugh bubbled out of her – the throaty, gut laugh that he loved so much and made him grin. "That sounds horrible, doesn't it? Shit, uhm…Gale got the job here first and he uh, put in a good word for me I guess. Lord knows I wasn't doing anything all that great."

Peeta's stomach sunk slightly as he heard that name. _Gale_. Gale, the tall, muscular, hunky looking guy that had the girl he wanted. Gale, the guy who was everything Peeta envied in life. Just the thought of him put a bitter taste in his mouth. The muscles in his back and ass began to burn as he resumed another set of squats. Setting his jaw, he fought through it, sobered.

"Oh, that's…that's cool."

"Is it?" she gave a little snort. "I've always been active or whatever, so I guess this was a good job to take. Not like I want to hang out with Gale all day, but it was the first job I've had where I didn't have to work a bunch of other jobs, so there's that."

"Why don't you want to work with Gale?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's great and all, but he can get annoying. Sometimes when he talks I want to punch him, but I love him, but I still want to punch him…." She laughed again, shrugging.

That was strange. She didn't _talk_ about him….as if he were the great romance Peeta had built up in his mind. Of course Katniss wasn't gushy like that; it was one of the things about her that he admired. But she almost sounded…annoyed with him? That didn't seem right. Peeta knew little about how these relationship things worked as he'd had so little experience in that department. It had been years since he'd even had a date, much less a girlfriend. Was it common to be so irritated when talking about a significant other? A glimmer of hope flicked in his chest, but a darker side of him eagerly trampled it out. Since she'd come into the bakery with Gale, the sick, masochistic part of his mind that liked to punish him had pictured them together a hundred times since then. Punishment had been in the form of Katniss kissing Gale, their joined hands, their perfect bodies, tangled in a sweaty heap in a bed…

Blinking, Peeta straightened up, his muscles burning. "Must be a lot of 'together' time," he replied quietly, unable to look at her.

"Yeah, but its fine. I'm not really complaining, this job is a hundred times better than everything else I've done. Better than stinking like tanning bed cleaner or serving frilly coffee drinks to thirteen year old girls at the mall or waiting tables at a truck stop at two in the morning…" she trailed off, raising her dark, expressive eyebrows. Peeta took a sip of his water and watched her fidget in the large mirrors in front of them. She was clearly uncomfortable talking about her long list of former careers, he realized.

A guilty look flashed across her face. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. Those were…fine jobs at the time. I just…was unhappy and hated pretty much everything, so….they put food on the table or whatever. It's not like I'm in any position to be picky…" she trailed off.

Peeta leaned, stretching his back and butt muscles as he casually watched her face. They'd talked before about how Katniss was the guardian for her little sister, but she'd never gone into many details about the hows and whys of it all. Her eyes were always downcast when she spoke about it, and Peeta had the good sense not to bring it up. Of course he wanted to know anything about her she'd volunteer, but he wasn't about push his luck.

"But you've always been active? Outside of work?"

"Yeah, my dad used to take me hunting and fishing and all that when he was alive, and I was always outside. I didn't get to do sports in high school because of Prim and that, but I was always active. I'd get away on the weekends and whatnot and just…run around the woods. God, I sound so weird saying that, right? I just like nature, and…yeah."

Peeta found himself grinning at her awkwardness. It was endearing to listen to her ramble and talk about her life in the endearing way she did. Suddenly, he realized she'd mentioned her father was no longer alive. There were few scenarios where parents could be alive but a sibling would be guardian, but he'd never given that aspect of her life that much thought before. Curiosity struck him before he had any sense.

"Your dad…he died?"

Looking up, her expression sobered and he felt stupid.

"Oh, uh….yeah. Years ago. It was….this accident in the mine where he worked. My dad…and Gale's."

Peeta felt like a moron. Like an absolute _moron_ for prying.

He straightened, his hand on her shoulder before he could think. "Katniss, I….I am so sorry for your loss. I shouldn't have….I was….I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm sorry-"

Her eyes flicked to his hand where he lightly touched her, and he instantly pulled away. "I…I didn't mean…."

"No," she cut him off, shaking her head. "It's…." she glanced around the gym – it was late afternoon, before the end of day rush, so there weren't many people around. The smell of cleaning solution suddenly felt like it was burning through his senses. Peeta stepped back as he felt his face flame.

"It's okay," her voice was soft, but not laced with hurt. "It's not…raw? I guess? Anymore. I can talk about it."

"You can?"

She nodded. "It was an accident. Big explosion, and our dads were of course down there. By the time they dug through, it….no one was alive. We both lost our dads and my mom didn't last long without him. I've had Prim ever since. But it's okay. That should explain my long list of jobs. My damn resume is ten pages by now," she snorted. Her little laugh broke through the tension. Peeta smiled awkwardly.

"I didn't mean to bring that up, honestly, Katniss. I…."

She shrugged, cracking another smile. "How should I make you pay for it?"

His smile was instantly gone. Katniss glanced around the gym, the mood instantly lifting. Grinning, she spied a machine with stairs on it.

"Come on. Let's wear you out, Bread boy."

* * *

 **Oh, it's a slow burn with these two, isn't it? Things will pick up soon for them but I really wanted to establish Peeta's life before things heat up.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Week 6**

* * *

In a way, Peeta completely gaffing and asking awkward questions about her deceased father actually made things better. Somehow, by some miracle, it bridged some invisible gap that Peeta had never understood and knocked down a wall at the same time. Their relationship shifted in a way he could have never guessed and they were suddenly no longer just trainer and client, but they were _friends._

It did however, still shock the crap out of him when she did what she did next.

He was still wiping the sweat off his reddened face when she approached him after his Thursday workout, grimacing in the mirror at the way he'd sweat through his grey t-shirt. A nervous glance around the gym assured him that sweating through clothing wasn't uncommon, but he still wasn't sure how he felt about it in front of Katniss. He'd worked hard that day, spurred on by the fact that he was officially down another five pounds, putting him at sixteen pounds gone. The glee had worn off after forty five minutes of weights and the stair master, but he would take what he could get.

Katniss was still making notes on her clipboard, scratching away with her loopy, uneven handwriting as he tossed his towel in the dirty laundry bin. Not all the cupcakes in the world could trade the feeling of her glee when she'd read the numbers on the scale to him. It was motivation at its finest.

"You know I have to wash those later, right?" she asked dryly.

He balked, glancing at the bin then back at her with his good mood instantly shattered. _Should he not have thrown that there?_ Panic welled inside his chest until she burst into laughter.

"Jesus Peeta, you looked like you were a deer in headlights!" she laughed. "It's totally not my week, its Jo's. You looked like you were ready to pick them up and haul them home to wash yourself!" she snorted.

Cracking a smile, he shook his head at her ribbing and tried not to blush _too_ hard. Glancing around the gym, his eyes easily spotted the small girl with the red streaks in her hair that Katniss called Jo. Despite her petite frame, every inch of her that her Panem Fitness uniform showed was alive with lithe muscles and sharp angles. Her piercing shrieks would occasionally break through the noisy gym and made Peeta jump every time. He didn't want to imagine what fresh hell _her_ workouts were like.

"Sorry, I….you got me, alright," he lamented lamely, shrugging. Katniss followed his gaze to Jo, and she snorted.

"She's not all bad," she assured him with a wry little smile. Peeta watched as she sat on the back of the large man she was coaching, creating resistance as he did pushups. He gulped.

"Uh…"

Katniss snorted. "She's the most sought after trainer here, next to Cato. People who are extreme like extreme trainers."

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. "Must uh…be an acquired taste?"

She snorted with laughter again. "We'll call it that, yeah. Just ask Gale."

Peeta frowned, picking up his gym bag. "What do you mean?"

Katniss just shook her head. "Uh, forget it. It's not…I forget you're a client sometimes, Peeta."

 _Yes, and that's just fiiiine with me_ , he thought with a little smile. Giving one last look to the petite woman across the room who was now down on the mats, screaming in her clients' face, he raised his eyebrows and kept walking.

"Follow me."

Following her out of the main workout room, he tried not to look too curious as they made their way to the front of the gym.

"So, Crane isn't here today and I have a fifteen minute break before my yoga class. Wanna grab a smoothie with me?"

Peeta gaped at her, pausing mid-step. "What?"

"Crane," she repeated slowly. "My boss? Normally we aren't supposed to take advantage of the smoothie bar in the lobby, but it's totally safe today. Annie usually hooks me up."

Blinking, he shook himself out of the surprise and bobbed his head before he had full control of his tongue enough to speak. It felt like he'd just tried to swallow it.

"Great! Right this way."

 _Calm down Peeta,_ he coached himself. _She's just inviting you to have a smoothie,_ he chanted internally. Yet, he still found himself grinning for no reason as they made their way through the gym. He followed her to the lobby of Panem Fitness, where there was a small counter outside of Annie's office. The kind dietician that had helped him with his grocery list and food tracking popped her head out of her office, grinning when she saw Katniss. "The usual?"

"Yeah, and don't forget something for my friend here," Katniss ordered. Annie bounced out to the counter with a wide grin.

"Hey Peeta. Katniss…I've been meaning to talk to you. About _developments."_

"Bout what? Did something happen?" Katniss asked, her voice taking on an excited tone Peeta hadn't heard her use before. Her grey eyes sparkled with interest as Annie visibly fought to keep her excitement at bay. _Interesting._

Peeta watched as Annie began mixing up a few powders with soy milk and bananas, adding in a paste at the end. "Do you like bananas Peeta?" she asked brightly, flashing him smile.

"Oh sure," he nodded, silently hoping Annie would continue talking about whatever it was she'd planned to say to Katniss. Something about the conspiring looks they were sharing told him it wasn't work related. His suspicions were confirmed as she fired up the blender, making it so that he had to strain his ears go hear their conversation. He pretended to be engrossed in a poster nearby that detailed proper health shakes for pre-and post-workouts.

"He came by this morning and said hello, then he just started asking me questions about macros and how to count them and I was just like….since when do you need to diet, Finnick?"

Katniss snorted. "I watched him eat a platter of chili cheese fries at the bar last weekend while he was a pitcher and a half deep in beer. Trust me, that kid doesn't give a rat's ass about counting his damn macros. He just came by to talk to you. It's obvious you have a crush. But ulgh, Finnick?"

Annie giggled. "He makes me laugh. I can't help it. Do you really choose who you fall for?"

"He's such a dumbass! Ulgh, Annie, Annie…"

Peering casually over at them, he watched Annie make a face. "I didn't believe you when you told me he like…had a thing for me…" she giggled, "But now I sorta see it."

"Please. He's been flirting with you for months now, Annie. I've never even seen Finnick pay attention to anything for more than a week, muchness a real person. He can barely sit through a sitcom, yet he comes over here every day to ask you questions about nutrition when he has five percent body fat. Now, he could be worried about maintaining, but…."

"I know," Annie breathed, her tone still excitable. "But Finnick? And me?"

The blender stopped, but Peeta didn't move. He was convinced that he was in the midst of some wonderful trance where the girls had forgotten he existed. He would do anything to hear Katniss give Annie relationship advice. _Anything._

"And just why not? You're kind and pretty and smart and about a hundred times more interesting than his normal conquests."

Annie's shoulders slumped. "But that's just it. I don't want to be a conquest. I've never even had a boyfriend before Katniss. And now I have all these scars…." She motioned to her arms and stomach, her expression full of anxiety. "I know he knows I've had surgery, but that's totally different than seeing the proof of it. And he's so…"

"Annie," Katniss snapped, shaking her head. "He's a dumbass, but he's not a _cruel_ dumbass. And if he said a word about you having scars from skin removal surgery, then I'd kick his ass and we both know I could do it. Finnick isn't the type of person to give a crap about any of that. Why don't you first worry about a date, and just…take it one step at a time."

"You think?" Annie sighed, pouring their drinks into cups.

"I do. I mean, you could go out with him once and just be sitting there questioning your life choices and be like, 'there's no chance this dude is going to see me naked, now or ever', and just move on. One date doesn't have to mean all that," Katniss chuckled. Annie laughed too, shaking her head at herself.

"You're probably right…

"You might get him out in public and decide you can't stand him, and then what would all this worrying be for?"

"I know. I'm probably just… _freaking_ out about nothing," she sighed, glancing over to Peeta. "Oh! Peeta, I'm sorry. Here's your smoothies. I'm just talking Katniss' ear off about nothing, and here you are patiently waiting."

Peeta offered her a smile. "It's fine. Just uh…"

"Reading about protein shakes?" Katniss raised an eyebrow at him, her face skeptical.

Peeta's eyes widened, as he'd clearly been caught. "Uh…"

"Just take the smoothie," she shoved the drink at his chest, laughing. "Thanks Annie. And keep me posted!"

"Will do," Annie agreed. "And Peeta, you look great! How's it going?"

"Down sixteen pounds today!" Katniss bragged, making Peeta blush. He looked at his shoes and laughed at her boasting. She sounded like a proud mother hen when she talked about his progress.

"Nice! Keep up the good work!"

Panem Fitness had a huge lobby with couches and chairs in front of a curved, two story glass window facing the busy street. While he normally didn't go for newer, sleek architecture, he had to admit the building was impressive. The bright afternoon sunlight bounced off the walls as they sat in the comfortable chairs in front of the window. Katniss shot him a knowing look.

"So, what's your take on all that?"

"On what?"

She sucked through her straw, rolling her eyes. "That," she motioned to the now empty smoothie counter. "I know you were listening," she teased. "Unless you really that interested in protein shakes?"

"Um…"

"How do you like it, by the way?"

"It's…fine." He took a long drag of his smoothie, hoping the thick substance would give him time to plan what to say. He knew he had to tread very carefully here – even if she had a boyfriend, he didn't want to misstep and say something unattractive to her. What if Gale wasn't always around? As contriving as it felt, he didn't want to spoil his chances for the future.

"Come on…"

"I….I don't know Finnick. Is he the guy with the," he motioned to his head, "the hair? Kinda coppery looking? With the tattoo?"

She nodded. "Yes. That's him. Spends more time on his hair than I do, _tans_ , can do a hundred pushups and not break a sweat, obsessed with his trident tattoo….yeah, that's him."

Katniss met his eyes and gave him a sly smile. "He's a little into himself, but he's a good guy."

Peeta chuckled.

"Well, if he's been talking to her and they get along, then…I think she should go for it. He makes her laugh and they're already sorta friends. Isn't that a good…uhm….starting point?"

Swirling the mixture in her cup, she paused for a moment and nodded. "I guess you're right. At least the date itself wouldn't be as awkward."

Treading carefully, he licked his lips and took another drag of the good but slightly powdery mixture in his cup. "You could always double. Uh, date, that is. You could double date with them, take some of the pressure off."

 _Shit,_ he thought. _Did that sound as desperate and intrusive to her as it had to him?_ Cringing internally, he waited for her answer.

"Double date?" she asked, looking at him strangely.

"Yeah."

Katniss shifted in her chair, swirling her cup again as she avoided his eyes. "Maybe Gale and Jo could, but honestly they don't do much outside the bedroom. I'm not even sure if they've ever even exchanged last names, much less eaten a meal in public," she laughed hoarsely at her own joke, coughing into her hand.

Peeta felt the floor shift. Or was that just some remaining dizziness from his workout? He'd almost blacked out on the Stairmaster, but surely that couldn't be causing him to mishear what Katniss had just said.

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at him. "You seem surprised."

Peeta, trying his best to remain calm and stop the buzzing noise in his ears, blinked. "Uh….no, no, I just...about what?"

"That Gale and Jo were dating. Well, not sure I would call it dating," she trailed off quietly, then straightened her spine and looked at him again. "I thought the entire world knew my best friend was screwing that little tyrant," she chuckled. "That's so unprofessional of me, I'm sorry Peeta, I just-"

"-No, its fine," he laughed, trying his best to appear normal. Heat rose in his cheeks and his heart was pounding, but he was fine. Better than fine.

"I guess I didn't know they were uh…a thing. I actually uhm…"

How to get the words out? Was it stupid to admit what he thought to her?

"Never mind."

Katniss sipped her smoothie, and he couldn't help but watch the way her lips curled around the straw. Sitting in front of the window, with the sunlight shining through the loose wisps of her hair, she looked almost angelic. He sighed and tried to regain some semblance of control as she seemed to smile at him in slow motion. _Just like an angel…_

"Wait, you did _not_ think I was dating that dumbass, did you?!"

Peeta blinked, the spell broken. Speechless, he gaped at her.

Her eyes looked ready to pop out of her head. "Did you think I was dating Gale? Peeta, be honest with me. Did you?"

Nodding slowly, he barely reacted when she reached over the space between them and lightly shoved his shoulder before bursting out laughing.

"Peeta! Oh my God, really? I'm not, nor have I ever _dated_ Gale Hawthorne. Ew, ew, and double ew!"

Not knowing what to say, Peeta could only pretend to laugh at his own stupidity and shrug. All of the sleepless nights since they'd come into the bakery together flashed in front of his eyes, and he felt stupider than ever.

Stupid, but relieved.

* * *

 **ooooh Peeta! Short update this time, but I wanted to get something out there before the holidays got into full swing. I'll try to update again soon! Just crazy around here. Hope you all enjoyed it! (we know Peeta did!)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Week 7**

* * *

Several days later, Peeta walked into work one morning and jumped as he realized he was definitely not alone in the bakery.

His panic did not subdue, however, to realize that it was not an intruder or axed murder moving around in the store room. In fact, it increased when he realized just _who_ was in the bakery with him.

His mother stalked out of the little closet that held their supplies, frowning over the top of her glasses as she scribbled on pad of paper.

"Shouldn't the loaves already be rising?" she snapped, pulling her glasses off. "Your flour count is way off. Where are you buying it from again?"

Peeta had to exhale and blink a few times before heaving a sigh to answer her. "Mullvaney's. We liked the quality better, erm, _mom_ , what are you doing here?"

"Inventory."

"Doesn't dad normally do that?"

She made a noise in the back of her throat and tucked her pencil behind her ear. Peeta glanced wryly at the back of her head and she moved through the back room of the bakery. Why she still insisted on coming down to the bakery once a year to 'help' with the inventory was beyond Peeta. He carefully tracked and managed everything personally on his laptop and didn't feel like he owed his mother any explanation about their inventory. The only time she acted interested in what was going on in the bakery was to tell Peeta and his father what they _ought_ to be doing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen here there actually helping with the family business.

"I can't trust the two of you to keep things straight around here. And why are things all moved around? Nothing is where it used to be."

"Mom, I do most of the baking now so I've moved things around," Peeta answered, sharper than he'd meant to. Yanking his apron off the hook, he hastily tied it on and moved to the coffee pot to pour a cup of the steaming liquid. It was hot, hotter than he'd prefer, and the bitter liquid was ten times more potent as he remembered how his mother liked her coffee. Cringing, he put the cup on the counter and tried to ignore her as she continued to take stock of all the changes he'd made in the past year or so since she'd been down to the bakery. His ears only halfway listened as she moved through the storefront, making a noise of aversion in the back of her throat at each new discovery. Peeta rolled his eyes and moved to the back of the shop, flipping on the ovens and gathering his freshly cleaned materials out of the industrial dishwasher they'd installed the year before. As a kid, he remembered countless hours of handwashing dishes and pans and rolling pins, tediously scrubbing all of the tools used during the day. He'd grinned for a week when they'd finally installed a dishwasher and no amount of his mother's bothersome remarks would sully that.

 _Maybe I'll make cinnamon rolls today,_ he thought, his mind automatically thinking of Katniss. He could still remember the contented moan she'd made when tasting one of the rolls from the counter that day she'd come in with Gale. Now that he knew they weren't a couple, the memory of that morning was no longer tainted with sadness for him. Instead, he focused on the memory of her gleefully devouring something he'd made with his own two hands. For some reason, it felt a little more….allowed now, to think about things like that. The discovery that Gale was just a friend had changed…well, he wasn't sure what it had changed, but he felt like a huge weight was off his shoulders, that was for sure.

 _What are you going to do? Waltz into that gym and ask her out? No, so why does it matter?_

Leaning on the back counter, he wrinkled his nose as he realized the nagging voice in his mind had same tone of his mother. Add it to the list of reasons to be annoyed with her, he realized.

So Katniss was single, as far as he could tell. But what did that change? Anything? He wasn't sure. He just knew he felt a lot better that she wasn't dating the tall, sculpted, self-assured Gale. In Peeta's mind, Gale was everything he wasn't. But if she didn't want someone like Gale, why would she ever go for anyone like him?

His thoughts drifted as he thought about the way she'd looked a few days ago, sitting with him as they enjoyed their smoothies. While he wasn't one to leer at women, he had to fight himself not to notice for the hundredth time the way her Panem Fitness uniform clung to her curves and emphasized her strong, slim form.

"Well?"

His mother's voice cut through his thoughts.

Peeta nearly dropped one of the stainless steel mixing bowls he was preparing to use, turning in surprise.

"What?"

His mother frowned. "I've been talking to you. I asked why you haven't been to Sunday dinner."

Not expecting her question, he opened his mouth like a fish before closing it. "Uh…just been busy."

She raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes both surprised and calculating. "You?"

He nodded, turning around, away from her scrutinizing gaze. "Yes."

He heard her moving around behind him. The tension in the room grew thick as he knew she was waiting for more of an answer than the simple word he'd given her.

"No work after hours, no wife, no children….what on earth could possibly keep _you_ busy?"

Peeta's jaw clenched once and he turned, shooting her a dark look over his shoulder. "Guess I just have better things to do. You're always telling me to get a life, so….I guess I did."

Her shocked silence made him practically snicker to himself.

"Delly's coming in today to help me with some special orders. She'll be here soon," he added with a little grin.

His mother's mouth snapped closed, and she gave a soft grumble before grabbing her clipboard and practically stomping into the back storage room. Once she was gone, he allowed himself a private little smile.

" _Bye!"_ he singsonged quietly to himself. Nothing annoyed his mother more than her rancorous relationship wither daughter in law. Whenever she tossed a barb at Delly, Delly would use her Southern charm to backhandedly toss it right back to her. Peeta was pretty sure she hadn't known what to think about Delly for a good six months when his brother brought her to dinner. Yes, his sister in law could weave a web of passive aggressive quips and Southern witticisms, all delivered in her honeyed voice and topped with a sweet smile that never quite reached her eyes. If anything would ensure his mother's hasty departure that morning, it would be the arrival of Delly Mellark.

kpkpkpkpkpkpkp

When Peeta hit his twenty pound weight goal the following week, Katniss reacted by shocking the hell out of him. (Not that he minded – in fact, he found that one of the things he admired the most about Katniss was her ability to say or do the complete opposite of what he'd expect from anyone else.)

She looked up at him over her clipboard and grinned before glancing around the gym.

"Twenty pounds," she sighed happily.

"Twenty pounds," he echoed back, not quite believing it himself. Her wide grin and bright eyes were contagious – he soon found himself grinning right back at her.

"Would you be open to getting out of here for the afternoon?"

His eyebrows rose as he stepped off the scale, but he nodded with interest. Call her overly confident, but she'd had a sneaking suspicion he would meet his goal that day and she had arranged for Gale's help in getting them out of the gym for a change. Was it technically time theft if she was still with her client, working out? Probably, but she wasn't going to dwell on it too much. She'd had enough of Crane's creepy glares and lingering glances and figured it was owed to her to take an afternoon and spent it outside with Peeta. The spring weather was just starting to shift into the balmy hot days of summer and she wanted nothing more than to spend it outside before it became too hot to think.

And, if she was being completely honest with herself, she wanted to know what it was like to be in Peeta's company _outside_ of Panem Fitness.

Glancing across the gym, she met Gale's eyes. He gave her quick nod before ducking into the hallway with Crane's office. Gale had volunteered to make up an issue with his timecard to distract their manager from glancing at the monitors all over the gym. Peeta watched the exchange with amusement, a much different feeling than he was used to feeling when Gale was involved.

"I'm going to slip out the back door and I can meet you on the side of the building in five. You can just go out the front, and I'll meet you, deal?"

"You won't get in trouble, will you?"

"Such a rule follower," she snorted, giving him a light shove. His cheeks reddened only slightly as he fought back a laugh and instead nodded good naturedly. Giving him one last grin, she shook her head and watched as he was suddenly unable to look her in the eye.

"It'll be fine!"

"Fine, fine," he bobbed his head and started to walk away, glancing at her several times over his shoulder.

She held his gaze a little too long and gasped when Peeta bumped into another person after not watching where he was going. _Adorable klutz,_ she caught herself thinking.

"Shit," she muttered, realizing who he'd collided with. It was one of their regulars, a ridiculously built guy named Gloss, who was with his sidekick, Marvel. She swore those two _lived_ at the gym and did nothing lift weights and talk incessantly about their protein powders and Instagram followers. Neither was known for being particularly mannerly, and she watched, helpless, as Gloss's face lit up with annoyance at the minor bump.

"Hey, watch it, tubs!" he sneered, tossing Peeta a dirty look.

Peeta's hands went up and his face reddened almost instantly.

"Sorry, I…wasn't watching…"

"Damn right you weren't. Watch where you're walking!" he sneered over his shoulder. To make matters worse, Marvel added insult to injury by puffing out his cheeks and making motions to the front of his stomach as if he had a huge stomach. She could hear them both snickering, echoing "tubs" all the way to the locker room. Peeta met her gaze across the distance and gave her a small shrug before turning and pushing through the doors of the gym.

kpkpkpkpkpkpkp

After sliding a loose workout tank top over her uniform, she slipped out the backdoor and into the alley before hurrying to the side of the building, still seething. _How dare they talk to Peeta that way! What a shitty thing to say to someone! Someone already in a gym!_ Her thoughts raged as she made her way down the alley behind Panem Fitness. The heat of the late afternoon sun was a stark contrast from the air-conditioned, purified gym air.

It didn't matter that he was at the gym. He could have been anywhere – in a school, at his job, a grocery store, or just walking down the street.

No one deserved what Peeta had just gotten.

 _Especially someone as kind as Peeta,_ she thought.

"Peeta!" she grabbed his shoulder, making him jump. Turning, he squinted into the sun a little.

"Hey."

"Are you alright?" she asked frantically, gripping his shoulders. His eyes went a wide before giving her a quizzical look.

"Yes?"

Katniss growled to herself, so angry she wanted to kick the outside wall of the gym with her foot. "Those guys are such dicks."

A look of recognition flashed on his face and he chuckled wryly. "Oh, that?"

"Yes! I can't believe…I mean….you shouldn't-they're so-"

Ripping her hands from his shoulders, she grasped her head and felt like she wanted to pull her own hair out. She was so angry she almost couldn't even get the words out of her mouth. Rage had bubbled up inside of her and was now overflowing out onto the street where they stood. She was _seething._

"Katniss," he replied, his voice calm and steady, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, "It's alright."

She made a noise that sounded like she was being strangled. "No, it's not alright! It's not alright in any universe, Peeta! I want to go back in there and find the biggest dirty, sweaty towel I can find and just whip the crap out of both their faces! And then maybe haul off and kick them both in the nuts. Those jerks! How could they say something like that-"

Peeta's eyebrows shot up, but he let her continue her rant, patiently watching her. The only thing that finally made her cease her sailor-like tirade was the look on his face. He looked like a basset hound puppy being scolded. She simply needed to shut up.

Closing her mouth, she felt suddenly stupid for her childish rant. Peeta looked far from bothered by it, and if she was being completely honest with herself that was what made her upset all over again.

Leaning against the scratch brick building, she watched him as he calmly lowered his hands and rested them nonchalantly on his hips. He'd gotten a haircut several weeks ago, and it was just starting to grow longer and slightly shaggy how she liked. The ends of the blonde wisps were slightly out of place by the end of the day, and she briefly wondered what his hair felt like.

Startled, she blinked.

His face morphed from one of concern into mild interest.

"You done?" he asked, as if that wasn't the first tantrum of hers he'd seen. His patience riled her slightly, but not in the same way Gale tended to when he was teasing.

"I think so," she stated, taking a deep breath. Straightening, she looked up at him.

"How can you take that?"

"Where do you want to go?" he ignored her question, turning to glance up the street. Katniss huffed in frustration.

"Why are you not bothered by it?" she pressed again, entirely expecting Peeta to finally snap and explode on her. That's what Gale did, anyway, when she pressed and poked at something unpleasant that he didn't want to discuss anymore. His face would get all screwed up and he'd yell at her for not leaving it alone and then be sour for an hour or two.

But that was Gale, she realized.

Peeta wasn't Gale.

"Did you want to walk this way?" he motioned up towards the center of town, and she shook her head.

"Let's….let's go towards the nature reserve."

They walked in silence for a few minutes away from the gym, heading east of town towards the park. It was a beautiful park and she would often go there for early morning runs when she felt so inclined. Tucked away on the edge of town, the property was often quiet in the mornings and perfect scenery to keep her thoughts serene and her pace strong. The long, rambling walkways of the well-manicured park bled into a nearby nature reserve with miles of trails and walking paths weaving between the tall, natural grasses, flowers, and occasional marshy area.

The quiet between them wasn't awkward, but she felt her insides twisting with anxiety. While she felt a little foolish for exploding like that, she was still angry and hurt, if she was being honest. It turned out that the injustice of cruelty was almost as difficult to bear when it happened to someone else, not just her. She sighed and kept walking. Finally, he spoke.

"I….I guess I'm used to that."

His voice was quiet, but steady. She looked at him and tried not to frown.

"That's terrible."

Peeta shrugged again. "Katniss, if I let every guy in my life who's called me fatty or tubby or lard ass I'd go crazy. It's not to say that it doesn't bother me, it _does_ , but….it's not the first time it's happened, and it's certainly not the last. It's just…not worth getting worked up about."

She put one foot in front of the other as they walked along the paved path through the park, but it was like she was there in the gym all over again. Ugly words swirled in her mind. Her face grew hot.

"It's not fair," she muttered angrily. Her voice softened as they walked, and she shook her head. "You'd think I'd realize by now that life isn't exactly fair," she grumbled.

Peeta laughed wryly. "No, it isn't. I want to get upset, but…what good would it do?"

"You're strong…and sensible."

"Appealing qualities," he laughed sarcastically. "I'm just…gonna keep doing what I'm doing at the gym, with you, and…maybe someday…way in the future…I won't have deal with all that," he motioned with his hand, his face twisting slightly.

"You're _going_ to do it, Peeta. You've already lost twenty pounds!"

"I think you and I both know I need to lose twenty pounds. Then there's the delightful task of keeping it off. But I can't worry about that, you know? It's in the past and I'm not even going to let it bother me. I'm more worried about getting through dinner and not eating everything in sight," he chuckled.

"You're really very sensible about all of this," she mused. "How can you be so calm?"

He thought a moment, then shrugged, "I guess it's like I said – I can't change the past, so what's the use in worrying about it? I don't know what's going to happen in the future and that's just too daunting anyway, so…I guess I just figure I'm taking things an hour at a time. And for this hour…I'm here with you," he added, flashing her a smile.

Katniss felt her stomach do a weird little nervous flop. Peeta had a kind, sweet smile that felt so real and unassuming. She liked it.

"Yeah, well…I still wish you'd let me go back there and punch the shit out of them."

Peeta snorted, the laugh bubbling out of his chest. "Well, then you'd likely be out of a job and I'd still be fat and without a trainer, so where would that leave us?"

She stopped short, Peeta walking ahead a few paces before realizing she'd stopped. His sneakers scuffed the pavement as he turned to look at her. Katniss stared at him, still feeling hot but in an entirely different way she wasn't terribly familiar with. She couldn't blink as she looked at him, standing there ten feet in front of her, and she realized she didn't want to. The afternoon sun was behind him, and it shone through his hair that was now curling slightly on the ends. His kind, bright eyes watched her watch him, blinking slowly as the grin he wore slowly faded. Now that he was down a few more pounds the outline of a strong jawline had somehow become his most prominent feature besides his eyes. Did he still have weight to lose? Of course, but she could have cared less. Instead, all she could think about was the way this was the first time she'd seen him with slightly blond stubble on that strong jaw and wonder what it might feel like against her cheek. Would he taste like the sugar and cinnamon that always seemed to linger on his skin after a day of work?

"Katniss?"

She blinked owlishly, and Peeta took a shaky breath. He wasn't sure what had gotten into her – sure, that had been humiliating back there, but it was humiliating in a way he was entirely familiar with. People had shamed him for being overweight his entire life, whether in a passive aggressive way like his mother or a crude, crass way like the guys at the gym minutes ago.

"It doesn't matter."

He watched her clench her jaw, her grey eyes sparking back to life.

"You're wrong," she muttered, walking towards him. Turning, he fell into step with her and they continued their walk. The conversation was a bit stilted after that, but he honestly didn't mind. Just being in her presence was enough for him and he wasn't about to pretend like he didn't look forward to it every other day. His time at Panem Fitness had been tumultuous no doubt, but he found that Katniss being his trainer helped immensely. Hell, he practically looked forward to paying for his membership that second month. He'd never met anyone like her before and the fact that she wanted to actually spend time with him outside the gym was enough to make him completely smitten.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Oh….yes. I….get worked up and then usually exercise calms me down," she admitted.

Peeta laughed. "I'm the same way, only replace exercise with pizza and cupcakes."

"Sounds amazing."

"Said the trainer."

She gave him a playful shove, her stern demeanor cracking. "I still eat! Gosh…." She groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. "My real diet is called 'broke'!"

Peeta eyed her. "Seriously?"

Katniss felt her cheeks grow a little hot again as her confession hung in the air. She'd said it in jest, but it wasn't truly a joke. Being broke and hungry was something she'd really only ever discussed with Gale.

"Yeah, um….after my mom passed, things were horrible. Gale tried to help us, but he had his own issues."

"Does he have a big family?"

"Too big," Katniss replied, raising her eyebrows. "in my opinion, for whatever it's worth. I love his brothers and sister, just…whole lotta mouths to feed s'all."

"That would be really hard," he agreed.

"It was. Is. Whatever. My mom, she…when she went, that left us on our own and I had to really hustle to keep Prim. The state fought to try to get her into a foster home, something more stable with a real adult. I had to prove I could keep her, so…part time jobs all over the place, working constantly, trying to keep her fed….I definitely went without a few more times than I could count. But it's really okay, she always had food. Between school lunch programs and what I could bring home from whatever diner I was working on the midnight shift, we got by."

"Wow," Peeta mused softly, chancing a look at her. "How old were you?"

She was far off as they walked, her eyes set on the tree line in the distance.

"My mom drove into a telephone pole when I was eighteen. I don't think she'd been sober since my dad had died…not even six months later."

"I'm so sorry," he offered meekly, sneaking a glance at her. Her eyes were still far away, but she shrugged.

"She wasn't happy here without him, so…"

"Still. Couldn't have been easy on you."

Peeta listened as she seemed to unload about her life – the death of her parents, her mother's alcohol problem, and what it was like trying to keep Prim when she was eighteen. On and on she rambled, telling him funny stories about the house she shared with Effie and Haymitch. Peeta watched her as they walked, their trek taking them around the park a second time as the afternoon sun sunk lower in the sky. She would laugh about how much she was rambling, but he'd peppered her with questions about her childhood, her sister, and everything about her life that seemed appropriate to ask. He found himself completely captivated as she spoke, hanging on her every word as she talked with her hands and even gave him a few of the hoarse gut laughs of hers he'd grown to adore. The conversation wound its way back to her current career of choice, and Peeta silently thanked whatever cosmic power that had pushed him into the gym that day to meet her.

"I guess I just never understood how some people got to be so….naturally slim and eat whatever they wanted," Peeta lamented, wiping some sweat from his brow.

She snorted. "Yeah, but I find the people that don't have to work for it are also the worst kind of people. Like Gale. He makes everything look easy, sometimes I hate him for it."

He fidgeted as they walked, shrugging. "You seem to like Gale."

Katniss laughed. "I forget you don't know him that well. He's my best friend, but sometimes I think he's a few crayons short of a box."

"Nice way to talk about your best friend," he chuckled, shaking his head. Katniss guffawed again, giving him another light shove.

"I'd say that to his face, whatever! He knows how I feel – heck, I make fun of him all the time for being an adorkable ditz. He's an amazing person and one of the hardest workers I know. Charismatic and funny and loves his siblings but….sometimes I do tease him and tell him it's a good thing he's pretty."

They both burst into laugher at that, and he marveled at how easy it was to laugh with her.

"Staying active was my thing. Half of it was having so many jobs I felt like I never got to even sit down, and half of it was not having any damn money. Crap food is practically the only thing you can get cheap, too….so not only do you have to be poor, you have to eat horribly to boot," she laughed darkly. "That's why when we got this house we rent, I started a little garden for us. It's not much, but it's like free food and we've definitely used it to stretch a few paychecks."

"That's really smart," he nodded. "I've always wanted to garden, but…I live in an apartment now, so…"

"Well if you ever get a house, consider me your master gardener!" she broke out of seriousness, turning to grin at him. He laughed at her statement, but somehow the thought hung with him for the rest of the evening after his walk with Katniss. What would it be like to own a house? Did she mean it when she'd offered to help him plant a garden? He'd thought about buying a house before, but had always put it off. What use did a single bachelor who did nothing but work and hibernate on his couch need with a yard and a house?

 _I'm not that person anymore,_ he reminded himself. _I'm not putting my life on hold anymore just because I'm overweight._

They'd eventually made their way back to the gym, looping around the park another time before heading back. The sun was low in the sky and it was well past five when he finally climbed into his car and drove towards home. According to the step tracker on his phone, he'd logged over seven miles that day by the time he finally stepped into the shower. Once clean, he'd put on his pajamas and flopped into bed, barely realizing he'd not had his normal cravings to snack when he'd gotten home. The feeling of spending the afternoon talking with Katniss was a hundred times better than any stupid cupcake, he realized with a grin.

* * *

 **Hey all! Hoping everyone had a great holiday! Please excuse the slow updates, I know some of you have messaged me asking when the next update would go up...all I have to say is that your patience is appreciated. I've always been a night-writer but lately that seasonal depression has hit me hard and I am struggling with it. I still have tons of plans and great things for this fic though, so I'm trying to push through it and find my motivation. Thank you everyone for reading! I hope you are staying warm and entertained on this wintery evening! (We just had about a foot of snow dumped on us!)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Week 7**

* * *

There was a time that Peeta thought seeing the numbers moving on the scale would be the highlight of his weight loss. He would have been wrong – something better than seeing the numbers decrease was actually getting acknowledgement from someone he didn't see every week.

He'd been asked months ago to serve as a groomsman in his childhood friend Thresh's upcoming wedding. The time had come to get fitted for a tuxedo, and he was glad he'd put it off as long as he had, for when he gave his normal measurements to the man behind the counter, he'd simply frowned over his glasses and shook his head as if Peeta was nuts. Utterly confused, he'd waited patiently while the clerk went to go fetch a tux for him to try on. Thresh had arrived at the store minutes later and was instantly surprised.

"Peeta! Man, you look awesome! What have you been up to?"

"Just working, same old," Peeta grinned, pulling his friend into a hug.

Thresh cocked his head at him and frowned. "You losing weight? There's like…less of you," he chuckled, squeezing his arms.

Peeta gave him a playful shove and shrugged. He'd told his dad and brothers about his weight loss attempt, but perhaps it was time to tell someone else? He mulled the idea silently for a moment as Thresh grinned at him, waiting for an answer. They'd been friends since grade school, and so Thresh knew all about Peeta's mother, their family dynamic, and had sat through more than one awkward Sunday dinner with the Mellark family. Chewing his lip, he shrugged.

"I maybe joined a gym. Finally time to drop all that weight I gained after college…and during college..." he shrugged, chancing a look over at Thresh.

His friend nodded. "It's workin' for ya man, you look great! Family supportive and all that?"

"Ah, well…I haven't really talked to my mom about it. Actually kinda avoiding her, believe it or not."

Thresh's jovial smile drooped, and he bobbed his head. "I believe it."

Peeta smiley wryly and inhaled deeply. "I just…didn't want to hear it from her if I failed, you know? I just didn't want the lecture and her….normal….ulgh," he shook his head.

"Hey man, I get it. I've been on the receiving end of that _Mellark snark_ more than once since we were kids. You do you and let that mother of yours worry about herself. You look good though, for real."

"Yeah, I'm actually not dreading this as much as I thought I would," Peeta's mood lifted, thinking of the way his clothes continued to loosen. He was using holes on his belts he'd never even tried before as his work khakis got roomier and roomier.

Thresh was getting married in a week's time and his fiancé had opted for traditional suits with black ties, and Peeta was glad for it as he'd surveyed all the colors lining the shop. Black would definitely be his best bet as it was the most slimming option he could see in the store.

Peeta filled Thresh in on the last few weeks of his life as they tried on pants and button down shirts. As the clerk had suggested, he was now several sizes down in pants and even his neck size was different when he went to try on dress shirts. As he turned and glanced at himself in the mirror, his mouth opened a little. He looked good. Well, better than he thought he would have in tux. The fit was flattering, the dark material working to taper and hide some of his insecure areas – mainly his stomach and sides.

He didn't look bad at all.

Kpkpkpkpkp

He was still floating on a high from the tuxedo fitting when he went home that afternoon and sat down to pay his bills and get himself organized for the week. He was skipping another Sunday dinner with his family, but he figured his mother knew he was still irritated with her after their interlude at the bakery the other morning when she'd lectured him about the way he'd organized the inventory. _Why does she even care? It's not like she spends tons of time there anyway…_

Shuffling to his fridge, he pulled out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap before settling down at his kitchen table to get started. The late afternoon breeze was cooling down and he knew he'd better go take a walk when he was done with this. He'd learned that he struggled the most with food in the times when he was bored or idle, and so he'd taken to walking more and more in the early evenings to keep his cravings at bay.

Looking over his bank statement, he slowly began to realize that he was spending a lot less money. While he'd discovered eating healthy wasn't really cheap, the money he was saving from not constantly ordering takeout was putting less strain on his wallet than ever before. His conversation from the other day with Katniss popped into his head. What would it be like to own a house? The idea had always been in the back of his mind –he hated paying rent to his landlord and never seeing that money again, and a house _would_ keep him busy. Glancing over his finances, he did a rough estimate of what he could collect for a down payment from here or there and mentally tallied it up. It was doable if he picked something small and maybe in need of some fixing. Mind made up, he put on his sneakers and set out to the gas station at the end of the street to get one of those newspapers with all the houses for sale.

Things were looking up.

kpkpkpkpkpkp

Things were not looking good.

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Katniss slammed the pen down on the kitchen counter, only to pick it up again and start obsessively clicking the end of it. Prim, who was lounging on the opposite side of the table, glanced up from her book. Even with the box fan humming in the window, their small kitchen was already roasting and it was only early June. The tips of Prim's ears and her cheeks were pink with heat and Katniss' thighs were sticking to the vinyl seat of the kitchen chair. She'd been poor all her life, but functioning in extreme heat never got any easier.

"You know how I told you that I didn't need you to work this summer?" Katniss winced slightly.

Pulling her feet off the windowsill, her sister sat up. "Want me to pretend I didn't hear it and take the lifeguarding job at the pool?"

"Could you?" Katniss asked, giving her sister a pleading look.

"You know I can. How bad is it?"

"Not bad. Just had to skim off a few bucks from savings, and I hate doing that in case something falls to shit, ya know?" she sighed and added under her breath, "Because it usually does."

Prim nodded. "I'll call in morning to see if they need help again this summer. All the good shifts might be taken already, but maybe I can get a job waitressing or something?"

As much as she hated the idea of her little sister waiting tables, the tips would be much better than a flat rate at the pool. But then, when she thought of all the times she'd had her ass 'accidently' grabbed by handsy patrons after too many beers, she shook her head. "No, just call the pool in the morning. See if that works, and if not…we'll think of something. Crane just refuses to let anyone work anymore than they have to because he's cheap and doesn't want to pay overtime, but shit would that be nice…"

"I'll call the pool," Prim assured her with a nod. She put down the large textbook she was reading for her summer class and shuffled across the sticky linoleum floor to root around in the freezer for another ice pop.

"Any grape ones left?"

"Uhh, yeah."

The sugary ice pop felt cold in her hand and tasted amazing as she chewed lightly on the plastic. While she would have loved to turn on the air conditioning, their big old house they rented would have cost them a fortune to try to keep cool all summer. They settled for window units in each of their bedrooms but it was going to be a long, hot summer of cold showers before bed and stuffing her pillowcases in the freezer for an hour before she went to sleep.

A car door slammed in the driveway, but she realized she didn't hear anything after that. Haymitch's truck was still parked in front of the house, so that meant it had to be Effie. Normally she would hear the sound of Effie's tacky high heels clacking up the side stairs to her upstairs apartment, but there was only silence. Frowning, Katniss went out the side door and saw Effie, standing beside her old teal Ford Tempo with her arms around herself. Her normally silly, jovial neighbor looked…shaken.

"Effie?"

She jumped, looking up.

"What's that now?" she answered, her voice strained and confused.

"Effie," Katniss repeated, louder. Her neighbor looked up at her on the side steps and blinked. Both women jumped when Haymitch shifted in the lawn chair a few feet away, neither having noticed him. A cigarette was dangling in his fingertips. He was still in his work uniform, but he had a beer beside him and a wet handkerchief draped across the back of his neck.

"What's wrong with you, woman?"

Effie straightened, trying to smile at them both, but it was clear something had happened to have her so shaken. She leaned back against her car and looked up at Katniss with blank eyes.

"My…ex left a message with the salon last night. Said I was a terrible person and I….and that I couldn't be trusted. He…he said I'd stolen thousands of dollars from my old job and that I couldn't be trusted to not do it again!" she wailed miserably, her voice breaking. Katniss's jaw dropped open, and Haymitch stood quickly, causing them both to jump. His blue eyes were unfocused, but not more so than usual.

"What else did he say?" his voice was low and even, despite his bleary gaze.

Effie didn't seem to notice that Haymitch was actually _speaking_ to her, and instead ran a hand against the sides of her teased hair, causing the already tangled mess to flatten against her sweaty temples. Her hands shook as she spoke.

"He warned my boss to fire me, fire me immediately before I robbed her blind."

"That all?" Haymitch sneered.

Effie nodded miserably, but looked up at Katniss.

"Katniss…"

Katniss knew what that meant for Effie, who'd left in the middle of the night after her ex-husband had beaten her black and blue in a drunken rage. She'd waited until he'd passed out before loading up a few prized possessions into her car and leaving town. She'd only had enough gas to make it two states over, but they'd thought that was far enough. Almost two years had passed since then, but his anger certainly hadn't subdued.

"He knows where you are," Katniss uttered quietly, meeting Effie's gaze.

Her upstairs neighbor nodded, her lip quivering before she erupted into another round of sobs. The screen door banged softly as Prim stepped outside, her innocent face drawn with concern. Neither sister had forgotten the varying shades of purple and blue Effie's face had been when she'd first moved in. Katniss had never seen someone so beat up in her life. Effie's pretty pale skin had taken weeks to morph into the sallow looking greens and yellows the signified healing was underway. Katniss knew his accusations were crap. Besides being unfailingly open and kind, her upstairs neighbor certainly wasn't living like a woman who'd stolen thousands of dollars and run away with it. No, she didn't believe that for a second.

"That's bullshit," Katniss growled, shaking her head. "He had no right."

"But he _did_! He did, he…." Effie trembled in the late afternoon heat, her pale complexion splotchy from crying.

Prim stepped forward, her innocent face drawn into a glare. "We won't let him hurt you again, Effie."

If she heard her, Effie barely registered it as she leaned against her teal car, picking absently at a spot of rust.

"I was so careful to hide, I…"

"Come inside, Katniss urged, nearly tripping over her feet on her way down the stairs. She could still feel the way Effie was shaking when she grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. Haymitch merely stood there and frowned, looking like was deep in (drunken) thought. She didn't have the energy to deal with that today, she thought, and ushered her upstairs neighbor inside and gently pushed her into a kitchen chair closest to the box fan whirring in the window. Haymitch was still standing in the side yard, looking like he was just the perfect amount of drunk and angry. Turning, he turned and gave a swift kick to the old coffee can that housed his cigarette butts.

"Will you make sure he's not going to do something stupid?" Katniss muttered to her sister, who nodded solemnly. It wouldn't be the first time Prim had sneakily taken Haymitch's keys.

Pressing a cold glass of water into Effie's still shaky hands, she sat at the chair across from her and waited.

"Did you steal that money?" she asked, watching as Effie took a long sip.

Her blonde head shook resolutely as she looked at Katniss with worried eyes. "Of course I didn't! I…I left in a hurry, I didn't give no notice, but I didn't take anything! Not a thing, Katniss, I swear it!"

"I believe you," she muttered, taking the glass and tossing the water down the sink. Instead of refilling it, she opened the freezer and reached for a box of waffles in the back. It was empty, but housed a small bottle of semi-decent vodka. Pouring her a decent size double shot, she wordlessly handed it to Effie who downed the clear liquid, giving her a nod of thanks.

The side door opened. Prim slid inside, and met Katniss's eyes from across the kitchen as she placed his keys on top of the rickety plant stand in the corner.

"What should we do next?"

"Run upstairs to Effie's place and make sure it's locked up. Close all the windows we have that someone could reach from the yard, and no more leaving any doors unlocked, yeah?"

Prim nodded before hurrying off with her tasks. Katniss sat back down at the table and looked at Effie. They were quiet, both women deep in thought for several minutes. Katniss just hoped she had enough vodka to calm Effie's nerves and wished she hadn't had to pawn her father's old hunting rifle years ago.

"Would he come here?"

Effie's eyes filled with tears as her chest heaved with shaky breaths. There was a drawn out pause before she spoke.

"…..I don't know."

Kpkpkpkpkpkp

Peeta was still feeling motivated after work the next day. He'd used his downtime at the bakery to research a few houses he'd circled in the ads, and was feeling pretty good about his chances of actually being able to purchase one. He wasn't sure why he was so upbeat about it – he knew he'd be moving into it alone, but it somehow felt like it was a step in the direction of his dreams of someday having a family of his own. He thought about what that might look like as he iced the sugar cookies – a customer favorite – and covered them with the playful rainbow sprinkles. What would it be like to mow his own lawn at the end of a hot summer day? To fix a jammed garbage disposal for his wife or teach his kids to bake in the kitchen? His mind wandered and he caught himself smirking– his wife wouldn't need his help because she was very capable on her own, thank you, and knew how to fix things. Katniss never depended on others, and she'd certainly wouldn't start-

He stopped mid-though, his jaw going slack. He'd never really dared let himself to really _think_ about such a thing because it wasn't even a possibility until recently. The hope for a wife and family someday had always been there for Peeta, but he'd never imagined a real person in that role. It felt strange and exciting to actually picture someone in that scenario for him. It also felt terrifying and somehow forbidden at the same time. His cheeks burned as he began placing the fresh cookies into the display case. It was one thing to talk and laugh and enjoy the company of a person. It was entirely different to picture them in a romantic fantasy that was completely unrealistic.

Sliding the glass case closed, he remained crouched over as his reflection appeared in the clean glass. He knew what he wanted, but how could he make a reality?

He didn't want to go home after work. The thoughtful daze he'd seemed to be in all day carried him to his car, where he spied his gym bag tossed in the backseat. Realizing he had no other plans, he drove to the gym. Katniss wouldn't be working, but it might do him some good to not go home to his apartment and eat out of boredom. It was the time of day when most were getting home and eating dinner, so the building was practically empty and he had no issue remaining deep in thought. Over and over he let himself dare to imagine what his life could be like if he saw this whole thing through – losing the weight, taking over the bakery, buying a house, and…..and maybe, somehow, getting Katniss to….what?

Peeta sat down at one of the many workout machines he had no name for and halfheartedly began his workout. Getting Katniss to what – like him, date him, fall in love with him? The idea seemed less romantic and more daunting with every passing second. Disheartened, he tried his best to do three sets of twenty reps on each machine like he did when Katniss was coaching him. Her throaty voice seemed to echo in his head as he pushed himself through the workout. When he'd done everything there was to do, he went through and did it again. He was almost finished with his second round when his eyes spied Gale across the room, lifting weights in front of a mirror.

Even though he felt like a creep, he watched Katniss' friend with what he hoped looked like casual interest as he worked out. Gale was tall, lean, and extremely cut without being bulky. He was everything Peeta wanted, and not even his thorough workout could help him cut through the envy he felt when he saw someone with body like Gale's.

Seeing someone who looked like Gale made Peeta feel stupid for even trying to start in the first place.

Exhaling sharply, he let the bars of the machine drop, slumping forward to take a long drag of his water. He remained down for a few movements, just breathing heavily and thinking.

Annie had explained to him that his unnecessary eating was based on a pattern that seemed to be a combination of boredom and guilt. He ate because he was lonely and also because that's what he felt like he should do. Of course his family ate a lot, but that didn't mean _he_ had to. Coming to terms with that took a lot – where Peeta came from, a clean plate was a sign of gratitude, and food was the main event at every occasion. He realized that the two things his family talked about at family dinners were work and of course _more food._

 _There has to be more to life than just work and food,_ he thought. Realizing that his life revolved around those two things made him feel twice as heavy sometimes.

Annie said that in order to break his patterns and habits, he would have to put himself into new situations and try things that were scary and unknown, even if that meant exploring the health food section of the grocery store. He smirked to himself – that hadn't been as bad as he'd thought. Once he'd gotten used to the way food tasted with fewer sugars and additives, he didn't mind it half as much.

"You're Katniss' friend, aren't you?"

Jerking his head up, he realized with a start that Gale was standing right in front of him, wiping his face with a towel. _Friend?_ Peeta thought. He was really just her client. His mind raced. Had she referred to him as a friend?

"Uhm, yeah. Uh, Peeta," he nearly stammered.

Gale gave him a nod of acknowledgement. "Working hard over here. How many pounds you down, man?"

"Um, just twenty," Peeta answered, feeling his already warm cheeks redden.

Gale nodded again, looking impressed.

"Catnip must be working your ass off. Good for her, ya know? She really sucked at this trainer thing til you came along," he chuckled, shaking his head.

Peeta blinked in surprise – both at the nickname and the fact that Gale said that she sucked at her job. Katniss didn't suck at her job – she was really good at it. Well, once he wrapped his head around the accidental cussing and the fact that she herself admitted she was bad at it. She'd grumbled more than once that she didn't particularly love her job at Panem Fitness. He caught himself smiling at the memory of her complaining about her job and shrugged.

"I guess not a lot of people actually love what they do."

"Well, she's tried doing just about every crappy job under the sun, you'd think the girl would have a skill by now," Gale snorted.

"She motivates me," Peeta offered with a shrug. "Maybe she's…found her calling?"

Peeta didn't know what to say, and Gale shrugged good naturedly, giving him a crooked smile. "I'm totally bull-shitting you, man, she's gotten a lot better at this. I give her a hell of a time, but what are friends for? She's alright, don't listen to me," he added with a snicker.

Peeta nodded in agreement, unsure of how to take Gale. The tall, statuesque man in front of him seemed to always have a playful jeer on the tip of his tongue, and Peeta got the feeling he didn't take himself nearly as seriously as he thought he would have. Silly as it was, he'd always held the biased belief that 'pretty' people were all completely self-absorbed and stuck up. Gale so far, seemed to be completely the opposite.

"She's ah….helped me a lot, actually. I don't, er, didn't know too much about how to switch up my workouts and all that and she uh…has really helped."

Gale grinned. "Good for you. Well, keep at it man. Have a good workout," he walked past him, giving him a hearty thump on the shoulder.

 _He is not at all what I thought he was,_ Peeta thought, still a bit bewildered. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he continue his workout and tried to get lost in counting his reps forget about everything on his mind.

* * *

 **Please excuse the lack of Katniss/Peeta in this chapter - this was more of a plot/pacing thing rather than hot K/P action, buuuut I'm working on the next chapter and I think everyone will like it. I'll try to get that posted sooner rather than later - thank you everyone for your reviews, messages, tumblr shout outs, etc...I've been crazy busy with work but it means to much to me to read that you are enjoying this fic :)**


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